


Supernatural Rewrite: Season Eight.

by huntertales



Series: Supernatural Rewrite. [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Character Storyline Switch, F/M, Heavy Angst, Miscarriage, Reader Insert, The Reader Does The Trials, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:39:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 321,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntertales/pseuds/huntertales
Summary: A few things before you start the new season:1. Yes, I skipped season seven. You can read about my reason here: http://huntertales.tumblr.com/post/167096150545/rewrite-announcement2. This new season takes place two years after season six ending. Most of this episode clarifies what happened. If you have any questions or confused about the premise of this episode, don't hesitate to drop me a question.3. I hope you guys enjoy the new season!





	1. We Need to Talk About Kevin.

**Author's Note:**

> A few things before you start the new season:
> 
> 1\. Yes, I skipped season seven. You can read about my reason here: http://huntertales.tumblr.com/post/167096150545/rewrite-announcement
> 
> 2\. This new season takes place two years after season six ending. Most of this episode clarifies what happened. If you have any questions or confused about the premise of this episode, don't hesitate to drop me a question. 
> 
> 3\. I hope you guys enjoy the new season!

Dean tried so many different ways to forget about what happened. It had been two years since he lost the best friend he only had, the love of his life that he fought so hard to protect. The first year after you died was the hardest for different reasons. He didn’t want to burn your body. He wanted to figure out a way to bring you back from the dead. But how? God abandoned him a long time ago. The king of hell and his demons would rather gut him and spit on his corpse than attempt to make a deal. Cas was way off the reserve. And modern medicine failed him when he needed it the most. Dean was facing down the reality that he was really out of options here. He might have lost you forever. And you had been okay with that.

He could still remember the note you wrote for him way back when the both of you were still trying to figure out how to put Sam back together after his soul was still in the cage. You decided to try and strike up a deal with Death after Crowley and Cas admitted they couldn’t get to it. You wrote him a letter for the outcome if things didn’t go the way the both of you were hoping. You instructed him not to worry, you were perfectly okay with dying. “I know if things go south I’m not looking at the fiery pits of hell. But possibly a spot in heaven for us. And that’s not so bad when I have spent a few times in the cage.”

Dean forced himself to respect your wishes and went through with the hunter’s funeral. Because he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He was out of options at that point. Right after he got you back…right after he thought things might be okay. They weren’t. And things only went downhill from there after you left him alone to deal with his new set of problems. Life kicked him straight in the teeth and showed no mercy after he let you die. The woman he attempted to propose to in the hospital room. He could still see the smile and the twinkle in your eye. All it did was nearly bring him to tears at what he couldn’t do to stop it.

Losing you was the most terrible thing that kickstarted his year, but it wasn’t the only problem he faced. Dean had to deal with Cas eating up a bunch of souls and thinking he was God. The wall in Sam’s head crumbling down to reveal part two of the effects from the cage when the younger Winchester had non stop hallucinations of Lucifer 24/7 that drove him to the nuthouse. Dean had to try to fight a new monster that sneaked out from Purgatory thanks to Cas, the leviathans and their leader, Dick Roman. The second worst thing that happened that year for the boys was losing the only father figure they looked up to, Bobby Singer. The year was a never ending mess of pain and misery. Misery loves company, and she wasn’t lonely.

The levianths turned out to be a problem they had never seen before. Nothing hurt them like other monsters they faced. Silver, holy water, fire, iron…every little thing someone could imagine was just a tickle for the creature that could transform into anyone they wanted and snacked on humans. But they weren’t indestructible. Out of all the things that could hurt them, nobody would have expected a household cleaner to do the trick. It was discovered by chance from Jody Mills and a bucket of Borax, or the chemical compound of sodium borate. The weakness they had been looking for. While it didn’t the levianths, it was like acid. And they rolled with it.

However the real problem at the end of it all was taking down Dick Roman. Thanks to help of Kevin Tran, a new prophet of the Lord after the boys discovered these stone tablets that turned out to be the word of God. The kid was the only one who could read them. And in order to take down the leavinaths, creatures that were old as Eve, required specific ingredients and to get up close and personal. Dean, of course, was the one who did it. Along with Cas. The two of them managed to take him down once and for all…While Dick was sent back to purgatory, so were two other unsuspecting passengers. Dean and Cas were dragged along for the ride.

The hunter and angel spent an entire year in Monsterland, fighting for their lives every single day. While it wasn’t worse than hell, it was pretty damn close to it. There was a constant loop of fear and primal need to survive against everything around him. All he did for that entire year was slaughter his way into freedom. He made a personal promise to himself and God. If he ever got out of purgatory in one piece, he would stop searching. He would stop looking for you in the faces of everyone he saw. He would stop thinking of that stupid promise you and him made to each other about finding your way back to one another. Because it was over. It was–

“Maybe the lateness of the hour  
Makes me seem bluer than I am.  
But in my heart there is a shower.”

Dean felt his grip around the shot glass the waitress gave him a half an hour ago after she took his order with a flirtatious smile. She jotted down his request for a whiskey and swayed her hips to the music that was playing back to the bar for the bartender to fill his drink. The song that was playing before was an old song way before her time. Dean would admit that she was young and pretty. If he was here for a different reason and he were eight years younger, maybe he would consider having a little fun to clear his mind. But he wasn’t here for a hookup. His focus was dead set on the woman sitting at the bar, giggling at a joke one of the bartenders said.

Dean sat in the very back of the bar in a booth that overlooked the front of the place. He wanted to have complete and total focus on her. He knew it was a bit stalkerish from what he had been doing all day. He leaned back in his seat and grabbed the glass, bringing it to his lips to hide the snarling frown that stretched across his lips. Dean needed to know why the woman looked so familiar. Why she had been running around his head all day since they accidentally bumped into one another. Her apologies had been running in his head. Over and over.

“I hope she’ll be happier with him.”

Her name was Y/F/N Thompson. Thirty-one, married and the only child of Louise and John Daily. Her mother is a homemaker and her father is a dentist. Y/F/N graduated top of her class. She’s a professor at Centerville State College, a recently new hire to mold the minds of tomorrow about investigative journalism. She might have different hair, different clothes and a different smell from what Dean remembered. But he knew this Y/F/N wasn’t who she thought she was. But the way that she looked at him…like he was just a stranger. It shook him to his very core.

“Maybe the darkness of the hour  
Makes me seem lonelier than I am,  
But over the darkness I have no power,  
Hope she’ll be happier with him.”

The woman sitting at the bar wasn’t Y/F/N. She wasn’t married, her parents weren’t Louise and John. And she sure as hell wasn’t a professor.

She was Y/N Y/L/N. The only child of Ella and Andrew Y/L/N. Hunter and newly turned human. The woman he had known since she was first born. Swaddled in pale pink blankets and wearing a tiny hat his mother Mary bought for the big day. He could still remember the picture Y/N had lying around the place. Her crying red face and a toothless mouth that won his little heart right there. Even at the age of two all he wanted to do was make her feel protected and safe. He wondered if that was when Cupid shot him with that arrow to make him fall in love. If that was the moment him and Y/N became soulmates like he was told a few years ago.

“I can’t believe that she don’t want to see me,  
We lived and loved with each other so long.  
I never thought that she really would leave me,  
But she’s gone.”

But she didn’t respond when he called her Y/N underneath his breath. She stared at him with a bit of a confused expression as she picked up her belongings, politely smiling at him from the bit of mix up he had with her to someone else. But he couldn’t have. She had the same…everything. Same laugh, smile, that twinkle in her eye. The same one he remembered when he proposed to her. But now her finger had a ring that was given to her by someone else. Her happy ending that Dean wanted to provide for her was being fulfilled by another smuck. Maybe she didn’t need him after all. You didn’t even know who he was.

Sam wondered if it was even really you at all. They had burned your body the same day you were released from the hospital. You were supposed to be gone from this world. He spent these past two years trying to live without you. But the scar on your forearm–the same one that had been operated on–was too convincing to stick around town. Dean knew it was more than just a little scar. He knew his brother wanted his best friend back. The both of them did. While Sam stuck around the motel to do research, Dean tailed this Y/F/N. “So he could figure out who she was.” Part of it was the truth. Another part of it was a horrible, painful lie.

“Maybe the lateness of the hour  
Makes me seem bluer than I am,  
But in my heart there is a shower.”

Dean had been stalking you for most of the afternoon and into the early evening. What you were doing here at the bar remained yet to be answered. You sat at the bar chatting away to the bartender and flipped your chopped and dyed hair, making Dean feel that ache again. Out of pain, out of a need to go over there and kiss you in attempt to make you remember him. But he knew that life was nothing like those cheesy Disney movies. True love’s kiss doesn’t solve crap. It would end up in him with a sore jaw and in handcuffs for assault

Dean could feel his grip around the glass tighten until his knuckles turned white from who he saw step into the bar. How your face lit up with genuine excitement as you put down your phone to the bar. The stranger placed down their left hand to show off the gold band that signified a long lasting bond, a marriage. You happily leaned up in your seat to give the stranger that you knew as your husband a kiss on the lips and greet them with a hello.

“Hope she’ll be happier with him.”

The older Winchester finished his drink and quietly placed down the glass to the table. Much as he wanted to slam it down in pure anger. But he couldn’t let you see him. It might start off as a bit of a coincidence of seeing each other for the third time today, but it would turn into a bit weird when you noticed him a forth. He watched as you got up from your seat at the bar and intertwined your fingers with the person that this Y/F/N was legally married to. The both of you went on your way, Dean followed a few seconds later. He slipped a ten onto the table for the waitress and headed out, wondering what the first night after being out of purgatory would bring.

\+ + +

Dean Winchester was a man who had officially seen every side of the afterlife and what sort of things people and monsters alike could look forward to. He’d been to hell after selling his soul to save his little brother to endure four months of torture that still haunted him to this very day. He hopped around in Heaven after being ambushed by a couple of hunters he worked with once or twice before in his own motel room. He suspected the reason for doing so wasn’t about getting some revenge on Sam kick starting the apocalypse and you turning into a demon. It was more along the lines of God telling all of you to stop looking for Him. He didn’t want to be found. And the last stop on the list was purgatory, a place meant for things with fangs and claws.

The man first heard about purgatory and what kind of place it was after learning about Crowley’s personal interest in finding such place for all the souls of monsters that went there after they’ve died. While it was an afterlife for creatures he hunted, the king of hell wasn’t the only one who wanted to go after it. Cas also went through a lot of trouble in finding where it was. When they first took a crack at the place something was let out, a creature named Eve, the Mother of All creatures that went bump in the night. Long story short, the Winchesters spent too long dealing with the aftermath of purgatory and its monsters. It was also the place where Dean spent an entire year with Cas, fighting and running to see another day.

Hell was the worst thing that Dean had ever went through, but Purgatory was a close second. It was nothing but miles upon miles of forest, no place to hide, no place to feel safe. Everything in there wanted to kill you. And Dean had a feeling whatever he killed just came back to life. An endless cycle that went on forever and ever. Dean and Cas fought long and hard to find a way out, and purgatory wanted them out. But the both of them couldn’t do it alone. Almost every sort of monster the two of them came across wanted to kill them for the sake of survival, except for a vampire named Benny who saved Dean from another one of his kind. He didn’t seem so bad.

Benny made a deal with the older Winchester and Castiel get out of purgatory for good, under one condition, he could get out as well. However there was a bit of red tape and some steps the both of them would have to take if Benny desired to leave. Since the way out was only meant for humans, Benny would need to hitch his soul in Dean’s body and find his buried bones to free him from the hell he’d been trapped in for fifty years. The older Winchester agreed. While it might have worked, not all of it went smoothly, there was one party member that was left behind, Cas. Dean felt horrible for leaving the angel behind, vowing to find a way to bring him back. But there was still someone else he made a promise, and Dean swore he would keep it.

Benny Lafitte’s bones were buried somewhere in Louisiana, and Dean found his way there after being spit back somewhere in the middle of Maine. He was covered head to toe in a nasty combination of dirt, sweat and blood. Dean, still running on the adrenaline rush from purgatory, spooked a couple camping in the wilderness. All he wanted to know was where the hell he was and where the road was. Dean didn’t stick around for long, he ran out of there, but not before stealing the guy’s bag for some extra clothes. That’s when Dean started his trip down south and freed the vampire who got him out of that hellhole called purgatory. But their first meeting on the real world would also be their last.

Dean found salvation in Rufus’ old cabin off in Montana to lay down for a while to recover from the time he spent in purgatory and wash off the year’s worth of filth. And it was now time to call up Sam to let him know his big brother was back in town. But it was a little harder contacting the man after he went through a half dozen numbers before finding one that was in service. Dean made the stupid mistake of calling your cell, thinking that you were still alive, only he realized right away after hearing your cheery voice that instructed him to leave a message about the fact that you’ve been dead for two years now. But no matter how much time passed it still caused an ache in his chest.

However just because two of his closest family members were dead didn’t mean he had another one that he could look forward to seeing. And that was Sam, his little brother. The Winchester’s greeting to each other was of typical routine after coming back from the dead; holy water in the face, cut yourself with a silver knife and a mix of cleaning to make sure neither one of them were leviathans. And when all of that was cleared up the both of them finally embraced one another in a hug, relieved to see one another was still alive after all this time being apart.

The Winchesters caught up on details about what happened over the past year while they were apart. Sam learned that his brother spent an entire year in Purgatory running for his life, Dean learned that his baby brother fell back on some old habits. Dean thought his brother spent this whole year without him hunting and keeping things under wraps, but that wasn’t the case. Sam decided to quit hunting for good, he wanted a normal life. He didn’t have anyone. His brother and Cas were in purgatory, you and Bobby were dead. Not to mention that Crowley got his slimy hands on Kevin Tran and Meg, whisking them to parts unknown. Dean still wondered why his brother would turn his back on the family business.

“Nothing says ‘family’ quite like the whole family being dead.” 

Dean still couldn’t wrap his mind around why his brother would up and leave hunting like this. Sam tried to defend his actions by saying that he was alone for the first time in his life. He had nobody to help guide him in the right direction. All of his family that he had was dead and gone. And it wasn’t like had a roadmap to follow in this kind of situation. So he packed up the Impala and drove wherever the road took him. Dean had taken the same outcome after Sam fell into the pit and you died. But he always kept one finger on hunting, trying to find a way to break his brother free from the cage and you back from the dead. But…Sam didn’t do that. He had turned his back completely on everything that had to do with hunting and finding his brother.

The boys didn’t exactly get off on the right foot with one another, and the awkward tension kept carrying itself through the night. Dean occupied himself with checking on all the phones his brother kept to see what messages that had been piling up. He discovered Kevin Tran, the prophet they had met last year, had tried several times to get a hold of Sam after escaping the clutches of Crowley. The kid had spent the year or so on his own, running from Crowley and the king’s demons. Kevin had left one last message to tell the younger Winchester not to contact him again, giving up hope the man was alive at all. Because he thought that Sam wouldn’t have just up and left him like this. Only he did.

Sam decided to do the right thing and put his life that he had been living for the past year on the back burner for now and worked on tracking down where Kevin was. It took a little while until he heard the background noise from the last message he sent was about a last call for a bus that would have taken him to Centerville, Michigan. Which his girlfriend conveniently went to college there. It might have been a thin lead, but it was the only one the boys had. So they took it.

While on the road Dean learned the reason why his brother quit everything for the year while Dean was gone. It started off as a joke when Dean asked if it was about a woman. Sam didn’t deny, he said it was. Sam met a woman named Amelia after he accidentally hit a dog. (Which pissed off his brother after he realized the wet dog smell in the backseat of the Impala really did come from a canine.) The younger Winchester figured out in that moment the world would go on without him. It did when you died. There were other hunters who would take care of the problem if one arised. All Sam wanted was a bit of happiness, and for that year, Amelia gave it to him. Dean couldn’t deny that he hadn’t taken a trip down that road before. But it never ended well.

The boys headed to Michigan and the campus where Kevin’s girlfriend had been attending. She denied ever seeing the young man, claiming the last time she saw him was a year ago. When he disappeared and stole his mother’s car because he was on a mission from God or something along those terms. Little did she realize he really was. Channing admitted she ditched his ass after he left, and when Kevin was going to Princeton. Dean would never understand millennials. When the lead turned out cold, the boys headed back on campus to figure out their next move.

“So why would Kevin come sniffing around here if not to see her?” Dean wondered.

“No idea.” Sam admitted. “Maybe we should split up, ask around, see if anybody seen him?”

“Yeah, Asian kid, yea high, at a university.” Dean tried to remember how tall the kid as he lifted up his hand slightly to prove his point that Kevin would blend into the campus crowd. It would only be a waste of time to keep poking their noses in this place. However as he turned his head to look at his brother, he didn’t realize the sidewalk they were on was being shared by someone else. “That shouldn’t be too—”

The older Winchester was caught off from his sentence when he felt his body suddenly colliding with another, stopping someone from quietly giggling and letting out a sudden gasp of surprise from what happened. He felt himself stumbling back slightly as the body who ran into him had reached out a hand to steady themselves before they could fall right on their ass. Dean looked to see the person he bumped into was female, but he couldn’t see her face quite yet. Her head was titled to the ground when she realized the coffee she’d been drinking dropped straight to the ground. She thoroughly inspected her blouse and skirt to see if there was any damage, luckily enough, nobody seemed have been in the way of the spill.

She cursed slightly underneath her breath and stepped back when she stopped worrying about her drink and realized she was still standing next to Dean. “I’m so, so sorry.” The woman began to apologize as she looked to make sure that Dean remained unharmed. She finally flicked the hair out of her face and adjusted her bag hanging off her shoulder, making eye contact with the older Winchester. “I didn’t see where I was going.”

Dean opened his mouth the apologize himself and attempted to brush all of this off, thinking he had more important things to take care of right now. He looked at the woman straight in the eye and thought of what to say, but the words never came out. Dean felt his heart suddenly stop beating for a second at who he saw staring back at him with a friendly smile that he’d seen what felt like a thousand times before. He saw the same face shape, same eye color, even the same faded scar down her forearm the doctors had warned him about. Dean noticed it when she had absentmindedly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Dean’s first initial thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. He blinked, thinking if he told himself that the woman he accidentally bumped into was someone else her face would change into someone else’s. When he opened his eyes, she still looked the same like she did before. She still looked like…someone he lost a long time ago. But that’d be impossible. He watched you die. Him and Sam burned your body. Dean found himself replaying the sound of your voice, the smile, the scar. It looked like you. It had to be. But she stared at him like a stranger.

The older Winchester quickly stopped himself from letting him believe such a ludicrous thought. It was impossible, something like this felt like it was straight out of a freaking crappy romance movie. Man spends two years trying to get over the woman he loved only to bump into her after officially getting over her. His brain was still scrambled up from purgatory He was shaky, on edge. Dean’s thoughts were still plagued with the one thing that had gotten him through that year. He thought about you during the times of distress, pretending that if he got out of here he would be reunited with you. But he made a promise to himself that he’d stopped looking if he got out. He came to the conclusion that you were dead. You had to be.

Dean also knew that he couldn’t forget the face of the woman he loved for his entire life. He thought if this day were to ever come that he would remember you. And what if it did? What if the woman he was staring at was really you? God, it had to be. Dean cleared his throat to break himself out of his thoughts and gave her a smile, the kind that always hooked women in, and he got ready to strike up a conversation to keep her here. Only before he could get a single word out, someone had beaten him to it.

“Y/F/N!”

A female voice called out an unfamiliar name from behind them, causing the woman to break her concentration from Dean. The woman named Y/F/N adjusted the strap on her bag and gave both gentlemen an apologetic smile for the trouble and moved passed Sam without even a word, continuing on her way down the sidewalk to join the other woman who called out for her. Dean turned around slightly to watch as Y/F/N walked away, waving at what he presumed was her friend and letting out a giggle he heard that echoed, making the ache in his chest get worse.

Y/F/N’s friend raised her brow in curiosity and looked away as she looked over at the two men she was talking to just a moment ago. She nudged her friend in the ribcage with her elbow when the both of them started walking. “What was that all about, girly?”

“Nothing. I accidentally ran into one someone and spilled my coffee. You think I would learn not to text and walk at the same time.” Y/F/N said, shrugging her shoulders. She patted her bag to where she thought she’d slipped he phone back into after running into that guy. Only she didn’t realize the phone was on the sidewalk, abandoned by her by pure accident.

“You’re such a klutz.” Her friend remarked, shaking her head at the same story she heard about once a day. It was either running into people or falling on her two feet. The woman looked over her shoulder to see if she could try and take a look at the two gentlemen. Her lips stretched into a smile as she quickly looked forward after she caught Dean still staring at them. “Oh my God. I think the blonde one was totally checking out your ass.”

“Melody, I am a happily married woman.” Y/F/N’s muttered your friend’s name underneath her breath and rolled her eyes. She placed her hands on her chest, showing off her engagement and wedding rings she’d been wearing for the past five years now. However Y/F/N couldn’t keep a straight face when she looked over her shoulder one more time to catch a glimpse at the man and let out a quiet giggle. “You think so? He was kind of handsome.”

The two women made their way down the campus until they were out of sight. Dean stood there for a moment as he tried to wrap his head around what the hell just unfolded right in front of him. He looked over at his little brother to see that Sam was a bit startled himself at who he saw. The two men didn’t say anything just yet. They replayed what happened, making connections back to the woman they had lost, trying to give every reason that it wasn’t you. Dean couldn’t help himself when he looked at his brother and gave him a serious sort of look.

“You saw what I just saw?”

“It’s impossible. We burned—” Sam stopped himself from saying anything else, his gut telling him otherwise not to believe that this was a coincidence. In this life, he couldn’t take anything at face value. He let out a quiet sigh and began thinking of what this meant. “What do you think? Maybe demon or something? We never did find the other body. My guess Crowley was keeping it on ice. Maybe even a shifter? Leviathan?”

Dean refrained himself from saying anything about the fourth option that was burning in the back of his mind. He let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders, coming up with an idea that was far fetched. “Y/N had a twin we never knew about? I mean, it’s not like we can follow this chick until she’s alone and throw holy water in her face. We might be looking at this all wrong.“

Sam looked down at the ground for a moment as he began thinking about the possibilities of how to get answers. He furrowed his brow slightly when he saw what looked to be a phone lying down on the ground not too far from where he was standing. Sam bent down to grab it and try to inspect what sort of damage was on the device. When there wasn’t a single scratch on the phone, he unlocked it, going straight for the photo app on the top row of others to get a clue of who it might belong to. He scrolled through the pictures of miscellaneous things until he spotted a very familiar face. He pulled up one that caught his eye and showed it to his brother.

“Something look familiar to you?”

Dean looked down at the phone to see his brother pulled up a photo of the woman named Y/F/N. He saw that it looked exactly like you standing with the other woman he saw her walk off with. The both of them stood on a sandy beach with one hand resting on their hip and around each other’s waists. Dean’s first thought was how cute these two women were in their bathing suits, however he found himself leaning in closer when he spotted something awfully familiar. He tapped on the screen, zooming the photo onto Y/F/N and her hip. The picture was grainy, but he saw something on her hip peeking out from her bathing suit. It might have been a long shot, but that looked an awful lot like an anti possession tattoo.

\+ + +

Kevin survived on his own for the past year, the kid could survive for another day or so until the boys figured out what the hell was going on here. They decided to hit up a restaurant for some wifi and food after Dean complained about being hungry for something good. Sam worked on trying to find out more information about where Kevin was as Dean sat back in his seat, scrolling through this Y/F/N’s phone to see who she was. All he learned so far was that her full name was Y/F/N Thompson, married to some douche looking guy. She was a college professor for the past two years at the same college Channing happened to be attending. Had all the normal signs of a happy life from pictures of her parents, a nice looking house and all around perfect life. It was amazing what people put on social media nowadays.

Dean looked up from the phone when he saw a waitress come forward with what appeared to be the best thing he ever saw. She gave the two men a smile and put down the burger and fries before attending to her other customers. Sam thanked the woman and pushed the plate of food to his brother, knowing it was exactly what the man was craving. Dean dropped the phone to the table and stared at the burger like it was the best thing he ever saw.

“Sweet mother of God.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. Sam gave his brother a look and turned his attention back to his laptop, ignoring the deliciously warm meal in front of him. “It’s for me? Seriously?”

Sam nodded his head, leaving his brother to indulge. “Check this out. So I went through campus security archives around the time Kevin should have been here. Anyone look familiar?” Sam turned his laptop to show the olde man the security footage of Kevin Tran himself. Dean was too busy enjoying every sweet bite of his food to hear what his brother said. “Dude. It’s a burger.”

“It’s a treasure.” Dean corrected the man. “Alright, so, what, Kevin comes all the way to campus and doesn’t see his girlfriend?”

"I don’t know. But I went to the computer lab and found the computer he was on. And I found the website he was visiting, found his account username, hacked into the website, found when else this username logged in, and then I reserve-tracked the I.P. address back to the original user, Kevin, who has apparently been using the same wireless router for the past two months.” Sam went on about a whole bunch of information that Dean listened to, but couldn’t quite understand. When asked for a simpler version, Sam gave him something he would get. “I think he’s in Iowa, at a coffee shop.”

“Well, that solves one problem.” Dean said. He swallowed his food and pointed a finger at the phone he had been scrolling through since getting here. “So let’s say this chick is the real Y/N. It looks like her, sounds like her. But she didn’t have a clue who we were. We burned her body.”

“Maybe it was the wrong one.” Sam suggested a possible theory. “I’ve been thinking about what happened and what started that entire mess. Josh said the reason why he teamed up with Crowley and Cas in the first because he wanted to get Y/N away from this lifestyle. Maybe Cas had some decency left in him and did that.”

“You think Cas switched the bodies, put Y/N in a little Angel Witness Protection and made her think she was someone else for these past two years?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged his shoulders, not sure what else could explain this sort of thing. "Maybe you should go check up on Kevin. I’ll tail this Y/F/N chick, see if I can find out more.”

"Nah. Kevin survived this year by himself.” Sam said. “I don’t think another few days on his own would hurt. I’ll see what I can find out about her and what not.”

Dean agreed with the plan and dropped his burger back down the plate for a moment so he could grab the phone. He unlocked it once more and went to the photos he’d been itching to go through again. Most of them were of different people, his focus went back to the beach photo Sam had shown him. He didn’t know why he kept staring at her face, all he could think about was the incident. About how the woman he promised he would remember stared at him like a stranger. If this woman was the real you, it meant so many things. It meant that Cas done something good before he ate all those souls and unleashed a hellish year. But it also meant that the woman Dean knew as Y/N was might be long gone.

\+ + +

Back in the day when you were still alive, Dean had this routine he used to do. This was when you were living at home with your days filled with endless research and the idea of hunting and saving the world as a passing thought of “What If?” before it disappeared for another day. Sam was at school and Dean was hunting with his dad, sometimes taking the odd job by himself if a case consumed John to the point where he wanted to work alone. Dean would always check up on you every few months to see how you were doing and if things were all right, but it wasn’t always announced.

He had this little habit of just following you around town, watching as you go on your daily routine and completing a list of errands. Get some groceries, stop at the post office, pick up a few new books of lore you found at the bookstore you didn’t have to learn about a new creature you thought you were never going to hunt. Every so often Dean would take you by surprise, pretending to come up for a visit when you were home from your running around town.

The smile on your face when you saw him always made him laugh, it was almost like a private joke with himself. More like the satisfaction of seeing how happy you got when you saw him. You had grown to enjoy living on your own. You kept yourself busy enough to pass the time, with mundane tasks one has to do as an adult, along with other things like reading about all sorts of different topics and watching a copious amount of TV to pass the time. And the research asked from the Winchesters was enough to fill your time in between when you were out of tasks for yourself. You might say you enjoyed living on your own, but it got lonely sometimes.

You admitted one night over dinner, tipsy from the wine you had been drinking as Dean nursed a beer, that you liked it when he was here. The house felt a little bit less scary. You still suffered from nightmares about the day you saw your mother’s dead corpse possessed by Azazel for the longest time. At times you wished that things were different and the brothers would be able to put their differences asides to be a family once in a while. You respected Sam’s urge to go to college and John’s unhealthy obsession with abandoning everyone to hunt down a monster.

You adapted to the Winchester’s ways of showing love and affection—Distance and communication every once in a while to make sure one another wasn’t dead.

You tried for so long to bite your tongue, that was, until you started hunting with the brothers and saw John and what kind of “bullcrap” he’d been putting you and the boys through. (Your words spoken in a fit of rage.) That’s when the real Y/N started to come through. You were more tough, you spoke what was on your mind and you stood your ground on what you did and didn’t like. You were stubborn at times, but you meant well. You wanted nothing more than to hunt and do things that benefited the world from outside of your house. The more you spent on the road with the boys, the closer all of you became. You were the glue that kept the boys together. Dean desperately wanted you back more than ever to help fix things back together.

Despite the reunion with his brother that went more in a bitter direction than Dean pictured, the boys put asides their personal differences to work on the strange situation in front of them. Sam worked on finding any sort of paper trail made this Y/F/N Thompson a real person and any kind useful information they should know. Dean bruised himself most of the afternoon following this Y/F/N around from college to sitting in the college parking lot until about four when she emerged with an armful of papers tucked in one hand and the handle of a messenger bag draped over her shoulder. She seemed innocent enough as she waved at her fellow coworkers and smiled at what Dean presumed might have been a few of her students.

Y/F/N patted around her pockets for her cell phone she accidentally dropped after bumping into Dean, not realizing it was sitting in the man’s palm. He watched as she struggled for a minute or so until she gave up and got into her car, driving off to the first location. First stop was to pick up a dress in town and a few groceries, along with some other places. Seeing all of this made Dean feel for a moment like he was back into his old routine with you. But it was when Y/F/N went home when reality came crashing in like a freight train, making him realize the woman he had been following around for the past hour and a half wasn’t you. She was a complete stranger. 

Dean pulled into a rather modern suburban looking neighborhood, where every house looked the same and all the lawns were prestigious and green. It was the complete opposite of where you used to live. Ella, your mother, bought a house that was big and a little bit rundown, with a homeowner who wanted it off their hands. He remembered the times he used to be over when he was much younger, his father helping fix up things even if Ella protested such help. She wanted the place perfect for you. You thought it was home, the boys thought of it as their own as well when they were younger. It had been Sam’s first taste of normalcy. Ever since you had died they hadn’t even stepped foot back into that house, afraid of the memories it would bring back.

Dean called up Josh Carver on a whim to see if he could help figure out the situation that was going on. Josh thought along with everyone else that you were dead. However when Dean told him he saw someone exactly like you walking around and didn’t recognize him or Sam, Josh didn’t sound all that surprised. He gave the older Winchester a bit of information that helped shine some light on what might be really going on here. The night you were turned human you and Josh went to a local bar to let off some steam from the falling out you had with Cas. You admitted over a few drinks that you “wanted to be someone else for a change.”

“What I would do just to start over. Just for a little while. No knowledge of angels or demons…I want parents, I want to know what it feels like to be married. Hell, I want a mortgage.”

Dean had spent two grueling long years trying to come to terms with the fact that you were dead for good, but he could never lose hope, always trying to find some sort of way to bring you back. And then there was the constant guilt for thinking that all of this was his fault, if he had done something different maybe things would have changed the outcome. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t. There was only so much he could do. Dean hoped that this woman he had been watching all afternoon was the real Y/N. He wondered what he would have to do in order to get you to remember him.

What if that wasn’t a possibility? What if Cas had wiped your memory completely like he did to Lisa and Ben? Talk about opening up an old wound from the thought. Dean chose to make the Braden family forget about himself and the supernatural for their own protection. Now he wondered out of fear the angel, who wasn’t in his right mind at the time, had taken the liberty to do the same with you as well? Maybe the body that the boys and Bobby watched burned was the one your demon side had been using. And the real you was still out there, thinking she was someone else. And there was no way to change what Cas did.

It was sort of frustrating not having his two best friends here to help him with the situation. Dean felt another wave of guilt when he remembered Cas was still in Purgatory, and here he was getting angry about the fact that he wanted to see the angel and ask him a question about what he did two years to you. It was the Winchesters’ problem and they were going to have to deal with it, along with Kevin, who remained in the back of Dean’s mind. What the older Winchester was focused on right now was Y/F/N and figuring out who she was.

Dean focused his attention back to the woman and watched as she pulled into a fancy looking house and stepped out of the car. She was about ready to unload the thing she picked up and head inside, only he noticed someone come up from behind her, taking Y/F/N by surprise when the stranger wrapped his arms around her waist. Dean leaned forward in his seat slightly in caution, only it turned out to be some sort of “cute” thing couples do when he saw her quickly turn around to see a man that made her break out into a grin. You used to smile at Dean like that. And now you were doing it to someone else. Dean swallowed slightly, trying his hardest to stop himself from doing something he would ultimately regret.

The older Winchester watched as you wrapped your arms around a man he’d seen before in your social media pictures and others you had saved on your phone. Facebook said that you were married to this douche looking guy, Dean remembered his name was James. It hurt as he watched you lean forward and give a kiss to the man that wasn’t him. He wondered if this was how you felt around Lisa when you came back from the dead. This constant urge screaming in your head to jump up to your feet and tell Dean that Lisa was all wrong for him, it was you that knew him better than he knew himself. You were the only one for him. But you couldn’t. So you had to fight back your feelings. He didn’t know how you did it for that year.

Dean’s attention to the couple he was stalking was turned away for a moment when he heard his own phone going off. He answered the phone when he saw it was his brother, but his attention never left Y/F/N or that guy, his lips turning into a frown when he saw his grubby hands touching her body. She smiled when he said something and headed into the house with the belongings and disappeared from Dean’s sight.

“So I did some digging and found some interesting stuff. Turns out there is in fact a real Y/F/N Thompson. Found her birth certificate, social security and driver’s license.” Sam said. “She’s been married to a James Thompson for the past six years. Only child of Louise and John Daily. Straight A student from middle school until high school, played soccer for most of her life and went to college at University of Michigan. She’s also a professor at the same college Channing goes to, which explains why we bumped into her there.”

Dean felt his stomach sink when he realized that you might be living a very real life and didn’t have a clue about who you were anymore. “Great. You think Cas did a little too good of a job on erasing Y/N’s brain and changed her completely?”

“You didn’t let me finish. Here comes the weird part.” Sam said. His brother could almost picture the smile on his face from what his hacking abilities could dig up. “Y/F/N Thompson was in a car accident three months before Y/N died. She was hit on by a drunk driver. Unfortunately she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, ending up going straight through the windshield and slipped into a coma. Doctors doubted she was ever going to wake up. But, low and behold, three months later, she wakes up with no memory of the accident or injuries. Louise, her mother, claimed ‘it was a miracle from God.’”

“Let me guess, family is a church going and God fearing family.” Dean muttered. Sam scoffed, giving his brother his answer. He looked over to the window when he saw a figure pass the window before vanishing from his sight again. “When did this Y/F/N wake up?”

“3:15 A.M.”

“Wait, isn’t that when—“

“Y/N was pronounced dead? Yeah. And here comes the

weird part. All of Y/F/N’s social media was created after she woke up from the coma. The only pictures I can find on the internet look like Y/N. But I hacked into the DMV and police database to see crime scene photos of the real Y/F/N. I’ll send you a few.”

Dean took his phone away from his ear and pulled up the photos his brother had send them to give them a quick look over. He saw a woman with a barely recognizable face lying on a hospital gurney with nurses and doctors surrounding her. But he could tell straight away this wasn’t you. It was the complete opposite of you in fact—from the skin color, hair, body shape. He felt a little bit more relieved as he continued the conversation with the younger Winchester.

"Okay, so let’s say Y/N’s really been alive this whole time pretending to be this Y/F/N. It’s an interesting theory, but we’ve got no way of knowing if she remembers herself.” Dean said. He felt a little bit of relief when he realized that you were really alive and well after all of this time. Life always had a funny way of working. But an obstacle was in the boys’ way. “I mean, we can’t just knock on her front door and ask if she remembers us.”

“Yeah. But I found something that might work that could get us closer to her. I’m thinking if we do this, maybe we’ll jog her memory.” Sam said. “It’s a long shot, I know, but we don’t have a lot of options left here.” 

\+ + +

The next morning you were up earlier than you anticipated, and alone again. You stopped being surprised at the odd hours your husband worked from his new promotion he got a few months ago. Bad guys don’t put themselves away, and they sure don’t stop when you were trying to at least have one decent date night. You had enough things to do today from stopping back at your office to meet a student to discuss their failing grade and finish up the lecture you had planned for Tuesday’s class. And you couldn’t forget your lunch date with Melody, along with swinging by your parents house quickly to discuss your father’s surprise sixth birthday party. On top of it you still needed to find your freaking phone.

You got to work on getting ready for the day and heading to your office before ten so you had enough time to swing by your local coffee shop to get a drink to wake you up. Your student was probably going to be late as per usual. They missed three of your classes already this month and they barely handed one assignment in that didn’t seem like a twelve year old wrote it. You got to your office a little after you planned and settled yourself down, not the least bit surprised to see you were alone.

You went to your desk and spent the first twenty minutes answering emails from coworkers and a few of your students. You reached for your coffee as you read through an email from a student of yours, not noticing there were two strangers lingering in the doorway. It took a soft knock on the door for you to break your concentration away from your laptop screen to see a set of two men dressed in suits, their focus on you. You gave them a small smile as you pushed yourself up to your feet, wondering if they might be lost.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” You asked them.

“Are you Y/F/N Thompson?” The shorter one of the two men spoke up first, bringing your gaze over to him. You nodded your head to answer his question. You watched as they pulled out what appeared to be badges from the inside pocket of their suit jackets, making you realize they were from the FBI. "I’m Agent Dean Rorak. And this is my partner, Agent Sam Freedman. We’re investigating the disappearance of Edna White. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Of course. Have a seat, agents. I was supposed to be meeting a student of mine, but I doubt he’s going to be showing up.” You gave the both of them a smile as you peered out the door slightly to see there was nobody there. You ushered the men to sit as you took your seat back to your desk, shutting your laptop and moved around some papers so it appeared that you had things somewhat together. “This is a little weird, I have to admit. I’m a little bit surprised the FBI is interested in something like this. My husband—he’s a detective—said she would come back eventually.”

“Well, we take the matters of missing people very important.” Agent Rorak said. You gave him a smile as you looked in his direction when he spoke, relief crossing your expression. His partner seemed the remark was a bit out of line, he cleared his throat and gave the man a bit of a dirty look, which went unnoticed by the both of you.

“So, you’re Edna White’s next door neighbor, is that correct?” Agent Freedman spoke up, bringing your attention over to him. You nodded your head to answer the man’s question. “And you were the one who filed her missing?”

“She’s only been gone for a few days, but I don’t know where she would have left without telling anyone. Her husband died a few months after my husband and I moved into the neighborhood. She has no kids. She’s seventy years old with a heart condition.“ You said, your voice dropping into a serious tone to show your concern. "I’m just worried about her.”

“Did she seem out of character leading up to her disappearance?” Agent Freedman asked. You gave him a bit of a confused look, wondering what he meant by that. “Was she acting more hostile or violent? Like she wanted to hurt someone?”

“No. Nothing like that. But…she was acting a bit paranoid the very last time I saw her. She was acting like someone was following her.” You said, trying to remember the best of your ability. "My husband and I are quite fond of her, she’s practically family. We went to check up on her to see if she was okay, but when we did…she freaked out when she saw my husband. And on top of it she wouldn’t believe how long it had been since we saw her last.”

“Wait,” Agent Rorak stopped you, finding a piece of your story a bit interesting. “What do you mean about her being afraid of your husband?”

“Edna’s getting older. She forgets things, and I can’t tell you how many times she locked herself out of her house. Sometimes she even thinks James is her dead husband. But it wasn’t like that.” You explained the situation a bit better for them to understand. You were about to continue on to the part of the story about what happened that got you nervous, but when you thought back to the memory, your lips stretched into a faint smile from how ridiculous it sounded. “You’re gonna laugh at what I’m going to say. It’s sort of…weird.”

“Trust us,” Agent Rorak reassured you with a slight smile as he leaned forward in his seat. “We know weird.”

“Well, uh…she claimed my husband was taken over by a ‘cloud of black smoke.’ She said she saw it the day she went missing—the day she thought it still was when we checked up on her. She was shaking.” You told them the story, waiting for one of them to crack up laughing like how James and his coworkers did. However the agents sat there with a serious expression, they seemed even a little bit disturbed by what you saw. “She kept saying that he needed to get away from her, that I needed to run. He was a ‘monster with horrendous black eyes.’ Weird, right?”

“Had Edna expressed these kind of claims before she disappeared?” Agent Freedman asked you. You thought about it for a second before shaking your head. “Has she complained about the smell of rotten eggs? Flickering lights?”

“She didn’t complain, but her placed did reek of it when I went to go check up on her the day I filed the report. I thought maybe it was a gas leak and she…you know, didn’t make it out. But she wasn’t there. And all of her appliances were working just fine.” You answered the man’s questions honestly, however you felt a little silly, unsure of how this could help. “And as for as the lights go, it’s been happening for the past week or so. The entire neighborhood has been going weird. We think it’s an electric problem. They’re building a new development not far from where we live.”

You noticed that the two agents seemed a little uneasy from the information that you gave them, leading you to believe they must have thought you were crazy as Edna. Agent Freedman gave you a smile as he pushed himself up to his feet, you and his partner followed. “All right. I believe that should be all. You’ve been a big help, Y/F/N. I believe that should be all.”

Agent Rorak pulled out something from his pocket, you noticed it was a business card with his number printed on the front. He handed it over, “If you happen to see or hear anything—even remember anything, don’t hesitate to contact us.”

“Of course.” You agreed, examining the card for a moment before looking back up at him to give the man a reassuring smile. “Have a good day, agents. And thanks again for this. It really means a lot you’re taking this seriously.”

The two men returned the gesture before they showed themselves out to the hallway so you could get back to work. Dean was just outside when he saw someone come straight out from the corner of his eye, heading straight for your office. He stepped back in time when he noticed the student you were supposed to have met fifteen minutes ago came sprinting into the room, apologizing left and right about being late. You let out a sigh and showed your discontent with his tardiness. Never less, you gestured a hand for him to sit down where Dean was just a moment ago, the both of you getting back to your business of why you were here this morning. 

“Sounds like demon possession to me.” Sam said, making sure to keep his voice no higher than a whisper as he discussed the matters with his brother. “You think Crowley found out Y/N’s alive somehow? Decided to have one of his goons jump the husband just to make sure?”

“Old lady sees him get possessed, freaks out and doesn’t show her face for a while. Y/N, being the good samaritan she is, checks up on her to see if she’s all right. But when she opens her mouth, demon gets afraid Y/N might start remembering so he kills Edna to keep her quiet.” Dean tried guessing what was going on here from the story you told him and the younger Winchester. He peered inside the office to see you were deep in conversation with your student, having no clue what was going on. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

\+ + +

It was the late afternoon when you finally got home from your somewhat successful meeting with your student and lunch with your friend that turned into a shopping trip to spend money of things you really didn’t need. You made your way into the house and dropped the bags by the front door, deciding you would take care of them in a little while. You headed into the kitchen to grab yourself something to drink. As you made your way into the next room, you smiled when you saw a familiar face sitting at the island, drinking what smelled to be coffee.

“Hi, honey.” You greeted the man you thought you knew so well and loved, the smile across your lips grew wider as you reminisced about the night you spent with him what was hours ago. You leaned down to give him a quick peck on the lips before you went to the countertop where you smelled the freshly brewed coffee calling your name. “How was your day?”

“It was just terrific.” James said. You looked over your shoulder as you gave him another smile from his answer. The man brought the coffee cup to his lips to take another drink as he watched you turn your back to him, missing the smug smirk that began to spread across his lips. You asked him what put him in such a good mood. "It’s work related. You see, my boss has been bugging everyone nonstop about this…well, let’s call her a criminal who has friends in a lot of high places who tried to hide her. Real nasty bitch. And I finally found you.” 

You found yourself stopping midway through pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you heard a series of words coming out of your husband’s mouth that sounded awfully unlike him. You slowly looked over your shoulder to see your husband was standing on his feet now with that smug smirk on his lips that seemed permanently frozen on his face. When you looked into his eyes, you felt the grip around the coffee pot slowly slip out, the glass crashed to the countertop, breaking into tiny pieces when you saw those…eyes. The ones Edna had warned you about.

In the house next to yours, the Winchesters made true to their promise of not straying too far from where you went, however they decided to check out Edna White’s house while they were, curious to see if what Dean suspected what was going on was true. The boys wandered through the home, searching for some sort of clue that you might have missed while you searched. While the house didn’t show any signs of a break in or a struggle, not even a drop of blood, it didn’t mean that one took place. Demons might be bastards, but they knew how to be tricky.

Dean searched in a few closets and peered down to the basement to see if he might be able to find anything. He headed into the kitchen and poked his nose around while his brother took the living room. When the older Winchester noticed a shut door he hadn’t seen before, he cautiously stepped forward to open up the door, and when he did, the very thing that he had been looking for appeared, dropping at his feet. Dean let out a quiet sigh when he saw the face of one Edna White, throat slashed from ear to ear, a fine yellow powder scattered across the pantry floor.

"Sam,” Dean called out his brother’s name. “I found her.”

The younger Winchester stepped back into the kitchen to see the sight that he had been silently dreading to see, an old woman who had been viciously killed, probably for a while from the awful decomposing smell coming off from her body. Seeing her dead body meant one thing, what she had tried to warn you about might have been true. Sam took his gaze away from the dead body for a moment when he heard something echo in the air, it sounded like a scream. He furrowed his brow as he looked out the kitchen window. Sam noticed right away he had a perfect view of the house next door, which was yours.

“James, don’t scare me like that!” You screamed on the top of your lungs, your petrified expression changed quickly into anger when you felt your skin starting to burn from the coffee you accidentally spilled on yourself at what you saw. The liquid wasn’t scolding hot, but it was still hot enough to make your skin burn, quickly making you rush to turn on the faucet sink. “God, I think I burnt myself. You’re just an ass, sometimes. You know that?” 

You were about to put your burnt hand underneath the cold water, but before you could, you felt someone roughly grab a hold of the tender skin, squeezing it while they turned you around. James yanked you so you were looking at him, you noticed right away that his eyes were back to normal. "Do you know how long we all thought you were dead, Y/N?” 

“James, let go of me.” You ordered at your husband, unsure of what was going on with him. It was like a switch in him changed. You’ve never seen him like this before. Sometimes he pulled pranks to scare you for fun, but nothing like this. All you knew was that your hand was throbbing now in pain from how hard he was holding you. You tried to get yourself free, but he only squeezed the flesh harder. “You’re hurting me.” 

”This hurts?“ James asked you in a mockingly sympathetic tone. He roughly squeezed the burned flesh, making you let out a noise that made his smile grow wider. “Oh, baby. This is foreplay compared to what Crowley has got in store for you after what you did, Y/N.”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You questioned the man in a shaky voice. “James, seriously. “What has gotten into you?”

"Wow. Castiel really did a good job of scrambling up your brain, didn’t he? You don’t recognize my kind, baby?” James wasn’t making any sense here. You furrowed your brow in confusion as the throbbing pain in your wrist started to slowly weaken. When you saw your husband blink, you found yourself letting out a terrified gasp, somehow his eyes transformed into the same pair of inky black eyes that made a shiver run down your spine. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Hey, you ugly ass son of a bitch.” 

A male voice came from behind you, taking the both of you by surprise. Suddenly you felt the grip around your arm disappear, only to be replaced when James grabbed a knife from the sink, the sharpest one you owned, and pressed the blade against the hollow point of your throat. You felt James’ arm wrap around your body, pinning your arms to your side so you wouldn’t fight back. You were too afraid to breathe from how close the knife was. Your eyes wandered over to a familiar face you saw just earlier this morning standing in your kitchen, a loaded gun pointing at your husband. It was Agent Rorak. At least, that’s who you thought it was.

“Dean Winchester. Well, what a surprise!” James greeted the hunter with a smile as he blinked, showing off the set of malevolent eyes the man knew that belonged to only a demon. “How the hell are you, man?” 

“Pissed off.” Dean replied. “If you know what’s good for you, I’d suggest you let her go.” 

The demon pretended to think about the request for a moment before he responded, “Nah. Crowley has been looking for her for a while. If I let you and Y/N run off into the sunset, my ass is on the line. And you don’t want to be on his bad side.” 

"Do I look like I give a rat’s ass what your piss poor king wants? I just spent a year slaughtering my way through monsters. Do you really want to me on my bad side? I’ll say it again.” Dean narrowed his eyes on the demon as he repeated his order one more time for him to understand. “Let her go, you son of a bitch.”

“You know, you got yourself a fine girl, Dean. Too bad she doesn’t remember you. Hell, she doesn’t remember anything. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” The man you thought to be your husband suddenly felt like a stranger. You winched when you felt him lean his head down so his lips were hovering over your ear, making you want to do just about anything to get away from him. Dean could feel his grip around the gun tighten in anger. “Took us a while to find her. But I must say, the hunt was worth the wait. I could have dragged her to Crowley the moment I jumped this meat suit, but then I thought, ‘Nah. Let’s stick around. See how good she’s in the sack.’“ 

“Wow.” Dean pretended not to be fazed by what the demon said. “Do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth of yours?” 

“No. But I’d gladly kiss your mother’s with it.” The demon replied back with a smik. “Speak of family, where’s that brother of yours? I know if there’s one Winchester, there’s always another.”

The demon should have been careful about what he asked for. You felt the blade press closer against your neck from what unfolded next, but it barely grazed the skin before it disappeared, along with James’ hold around your body. You stumbled forwards when you suddenly heard the sound of something heavy hit the ground. Looking down to your feet, you noticed it was your husband, standing over his body was the agent you had seen earlier as well. You noticed that he was holding a knife, too. But it looked like any other one that you had ever seen before.

You felt frozen in your spot for a moment as your brain tried to comprehend what the hell just happened. Your wrist was throbbing in pain from the burn that was neglected as you realized your husband flipped a switch. He kept calling you, Y/N…he tried to kill you. You inhaled a deep breath as you slowly lifted your good hand to your throat where James had pressed a knife against. One second his eyes were black, and then they were normal. And then there was talk of demons. You furrowed you brow as you continued to stare at the dead body bleeding out on your kitchen floor. But you slowly looked away when you heard someone speak up.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You looked up to see that it was Dean who was speaking words of comfort as he lowered his gun. But you couldn’t hear what he was saying. The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears. “We’re not here to hurt you…”

You weren’t sure who the two men were standing in your kitchen, you didn’t know what the hell was going on anymore. All you knew that you suddenly felt yourself growing lightheaded. You moved one foot forward to try and take a seat somewhere before you could pass out. The logical side of you was trying to tell you to run, but another part of you felt safe. You only managed to move a single step before you felt your knees give out. You felt your vision grow black before you fell into the arms of Dean, not realizing what other mess you were about to wake up to.

\+ + +

“Let’s just treat this like a band-aid. Rip it off off and tell her the whole truth.”

“Do you honestly think that’s a good idea after what we did? No. We should take it slow, give her the talk and let her digest that before telling her…”

What did they do this time? It was the first question on your mind when you slowly began to come back around into consciousness. You were unsure of what was going on for a moment as you remained where you were, lying on what felt to be the most comfortable leather seats you ever felt. Your head resting on something soft. But the fabric felt a little bit itchy on your skin, like the overnight bag you bought for the trip to Maryland to visit James’ parents. Suddenly the mention of your husband’s name sent a shiver down your spine from fear as the memory came back to you of what unfolded that lead you here.

James was funny, it was one of the reasons why you fell in love with him, but his humor at times could be mean. He loved to jump out from corners and pull pranks for the sake of seeing a reaction out of you. While it was all good fun at the end of the day, what he did was nothing he’d ever done before. He psychically hurt you, James never laid a hand on you before until today. And much as you demanded him to stop, he kept going, calling you someone named Y/N. And those black eyes…you swore when you first saw them they were just contacts. But now you weren’t sure anymore.

Your hand that you burnt from the coffee you had accidentally spilled felt better, but you felt a slight pain in your forearm when you made the mistake of moving slightly. You noticed something was wrapped around your forearm, something that felt like fabric. You didn’t remember cutting yourself, you didn’t remember much of anything before you blacked out. All you could remember was your husband holding a knife to your throat, then all of a sudden seeing who you had thought to be FBI agent Freedman, standing over his body with a knife, James bleeding out on the kitchen floor…

“And how long is that gonna take? We don’t have time to coddle her. We’re halfway to Iowa. So either tell her when she wakes up or I will.“

Iowa? Where the hell were you? What the hell was going on? The conversation carried on, it sounded close, like they were right in front of you. You were wide awake now, but you remained where you were, eyes shut tight and body stiff as a board so you wouldn’t attract their attention. You were becoming more aware of your surroundings as you tried to figure out how you got here. You noticed that you must have been in a car from the leather seats and vibrations coming from the engine. You forced yourself to open your eyes ever so slightly, but you had a feeling you weren’t going to like what you saw.

“We know you’re awake, sweetheart.” You flinched in slight fear at the sound of what you suspected was Dean’s voice. You slowly forced yourself to open up your eyes and push yourself up into a sitting position to figure out what happened after you lost consciousness. You noticed that you were in fact in a car, an older model from the looks of the interior. Dean was in the driver’s seat, Sam in the passenger. You slowly looked over to the right backseat window to see your surroundings were nothing but woods. Dean looked in the rear view and noticed your growing nervous expression from the surroundings that seemed foreign to you. “Relax. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

You sat in the middle of the backseat silent for a moment as you tried to find some truth in the promise from the man. For a split second you think you must have hit your head to make you hear all those crazy things. Your head hurts like it does. “Who are you guys?” You ask the two men, remembering you heard your husband call the man sitting in the driver’s seat by a different last name. “What’s going on?”

“What do you remember?” Sam asked you. He was looking over his shoulder and trying his best to give you a comforting expression from what you had witnessed. You fell silent for a moment as you began to think about that. Part of you didn’t want to think back, because it was too terrifying to think about. You looked down at your lap, noticing your left arm, the one that hurt, was wrapped in what seemed to be a bandanna. You furrowed your brow slightly. “Do you know who you are? Who we are?”

“My name is Y/F/N.” You answered the man’s first question, but you were too afraid to continue on, because you had a feeling you landed yourself in a situation. You slowly looked back up to the man you thought was called Sam. He gave you a weak smile, seeming overwhelmed as you were. “You’re not real FBI, are you?”

“No, we’re not.” Sam admitted honestly. He smiled a little wider as he acted like what he said was some little white lie that you should have laughed off. But it made you feel even more petrified for your life, even more so when your husband had a knife to your throat, speaking all those crazy things that you were still trying to understand. “My name is Sam Winchester. This is my older brother, Dean. We’re hunters.”

“Hunters?” You repeated what the man said, unsure of what any of this had to do with the other. You furrowed your brow as you stared at Sam with a confused expression. “What—but you said that you were FBI. You were interested in trying find out what happened to Edna. And then…my husband…” You sank down in the seat as your face dropped in realization of what was going on, and no answers you were getting. You could feel your eyes begin to water in fear. “What did you do to James?”

“He’s dead.” Dean spoke up, giving you the truth that you knew was coming, but it still made a gasp of surprise rip through your throat. Sam looked over at his brother to give the man a dirty glare from the blunt truth. The older man didn’t seem to be bothered. “Your…husband, he’s long gone. What you saw wasn’t him. He was possessed by a demon. We had no choice. He was going to hurt you and take you to someone that’s a real son of a bitch.”

“You mean Crowley?” You asked them. You noticed both of the boys suddenly perk up in surprise at the mention of a name that sounded familiar to them. But what you say next isn’t what they wanted to hear, their expression dropped slightly, turning into the same solemn one as before. “James—That thing—whatever it was, he said that he was looking for me. But I don’t know anyone named Crowley. He called me Y/N.”

“Uh…” Sam fell silent as he slowly looked over at his brother in the driver’s seat. “That's—”

“Because that’s your real name.” Dean cut off his little brother, stopping the man from soft balling in some excuse that would get one of you anywhere. It would only keep you coddled up even more. The older Winchester decided to stop beating around the bush and go straight to the point of why they were here. You had to remember who you were. “Let me ask you this, do you know what a wendigo is? Shapeshifter? A rugaru?”

“A ruga—who?” You stuttered slightly, your mind working way too fast to comprehend what was going on here. "What, ar—are those characters in a scifi book? I don’t understand—”

You had a feeling the men who you once thought were supposed to be the good guys might be crazy as you felt you were growing to be. Something was going on here. Something bad. What they were talking about didn’t make any sense. Demons, shapeshifters? You swallowed slightly when you heard the engine shut off, Dean turned around in his seat so his right arm was resting on the seat so he could look at you in the eye. “Listen here, sweetheart. You’re not really Y/F/N, your name is Y/N. Everything you think you know is a complete lie. You’ve been living someone else’s life for the past two years.“

"Dean,” Sam hissed his brother’s name underneath his breath as he looked away from you and to the man sitting across from him. You furrowed your brow slightly more as he gave the man a deeply troubled look from how you reaction to the blunt truth didn’t help. “It doesn’t make any sense. I mean, she did pass all the tests. But how can we make her remember?” 

"Easy.” Dean said. You watched as the man pulled down the collar of his shirt, Sam got the hint, and he did the same to show off something that you’d seen before. Your eyes widened slightly at what you saw. Maybe it was a coincidence. But your gut told you otherwise. “Look familiar to you? I know for a fact you got the same one. On your hip.”

"How…” You narrowed your eyes slightly from how in the world Dean could know something like that. You wanted it in a place where nobody could see, You shrugged it off the coincidence. “It’s just some dumb symbol or something my friend drew up. She must have gotten it out of a book or something. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“No. It’s an anti-possession symbol to help ward off demons from taking over your body. That’s what happened to whatshisname back there. You got it with us after this one,” Dean pointed to his sibling next to him. “got possessed by a demon named Meg. You have to remember her. She’s a crazy bitch hellbent on killing us whenever she sees us. Calls you a mutt all the time, super sassy. You two always go at it with each other…”

Dean hoped that any bit of information would help lead you into jogging your memory and come back into reality. The boys needed you back to your old self more than ever. But you kept staring at him with the same confused expression. He let out a sigh. Dean decided that maybe he was being too lenient here. So he decided to spoon feeding you the truth. “Your real name is Y/N Y/L/N. You’re a hunter like us. You’ve known that demons and all sorts of monsters are real since you were sixteen. Your mom was a hunter, too. She was the reason why you wanted to become one in the first place. You sleep in the backseat of this car and you have a friend named Castiel. He’s an angel of the Lord.”

You fell silent from the bit of background on this Y/N that people kept calling you. The boys hoped that your reaction would be more helpful in finding some way to reaching the real part of you. But you showed no signs of cracking. Your lips stretched into a smile as you raised your brow, finding all of this too comical. “Oh. So angels are real now?” You asked him, refraining yourself from laughing to keep from pissing them off. “Did you skip out on your medication this morning or are you just this crazy?”

“We’re telling you the truth.” Sam said. “Look, I know it’s scary—”

You didn’t know what came over you, but you suddenly needed to get out of here before it was too late. Your head hurt so badly. It felt like it was going to explode. You took the opportunity to slip away when you saw Dean look off into the distance and Sam become distracted with trying to calm you down. You swiftly slipped out of the car and jumped out to your feet, not even bothering to shut the door, all you wanted to do was get out of here. But where? You had miles of road behind and in front of you, and endless amount of woods on each side of you. There was nowhere to run, no place you could hide.

You felt like your entire world was flipped upside down in the matter of seconds. Your brain kept trying to figure out what the hell was going on. All you knew for sure out of all of this that your husband was dead. The man you loved for so long, who stayed through everything. He talked about getting your vows renewed after you survived the accident. Sure, it wasn’t perfect before. The two of you had fought at times over things, couples do that. But what you saw…that wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been. He wouldn’t have done anything to hurt you.

“Y/F/N!” You ignored the two pairs of footsteps that you knew were following right behind you as you continued on with your journey. You kept looking forward and walking down the road, silently praying someone might pass by and realize your life was in danger. But the three of you were the only ones here. “Y/F/N, wait—”

“Don’t touch me!” You felt one of the men try to grab your shoulder, but before they could get a tight grip, you quickly turned around on your heels. You tried pushing Dean away from you far as possible away from you, but you couldn’t do anything but stumble back slightly, his frame double of what you were. You inhaled a deep breath and stared at the both men with a serious expression. Sam backed away slightly as Dean raised his arms, showing that he respected your wishes. “Who the hell are you? Really?”

Dean looked over at his little brother for a moment as the both of them fall silent. You could see their expressions were beginning to turn into something you thought wouldn’t have come from a situation like this. The two men appeared like they were defeated, almost like they were sharing a mutual sadness of what was going on here. “My name is Dean Winchester. And this is my little brother, Sam.” Dean re-introduced himself to you again, this time, in a more softer and calmer tone of voice so you would listen. “Your name is Y/N Y/L/N. We used to live across the street from one another until you were two and a half. But we used to sleep over at your house until you were four. That’s when you moved away.“

You furrowed your brow slightly from what you were hearing from him. Why did it all of a sudden bring a sense of deja vu? Like you had heard this before? You blinked as you looked at the two men standing in front of you. Suddenly they didn’t seem so frightening looking. A sense of what felt like familiarity washed over you, like you’ve seen them before. Along with a warm feeling in your chest. Kind of like how whenever you saw your best friend. You could feel the headache that had formed start to grow slightly more intense with each passing second. It got worse and worse until you couldn’t take it anymore. You clutched your head and stumbled forward, finding yourself blacking out again, and not hearing the sound of someone else’s name being called out in a panicked tone.

\+ + +

The house was quiet enough on a Sunday night, the last night you would be spending with the boys before John picked them up tomorrow morning and you had to go back to school all by yourself. You didn’t want to think about it. The paperwork was complete, John was now officially your legal guardian. All though you were sixteen and considered two years from being a legal adult, the law worked in your favor. You were legally allowed to stay right where you were. Your mother’s will had everything turned over in your name. Long as the bills got paid and you kept your nose clean there wouldn’t be a problem.

Much as you were terrified at the idea of being alone with that thing still out there, you couldn’t stomach the idea of living your life any differently than this. John offered you the chance letting go of the past and joining him on the road with the boys or staying with a close friend of his that looked over the boys when they were younger. You declined both of his generous offers for the chance of continuing your life. You still had another year and a half of high school to complete. And it felt sort of disrespectful to leave behind all the life that your mother worked so hard to give you. So you decided to stay right where you were.

You were spending the last night with the boys by savoring every second you could before it was gone You and Sam had the entire morning and afternoon together, but little Sammy was lying on your couch, passed out sleeping peacefully. You were lying on your bed with Dean right beside you, the both of you enjoying the music coming from the speakers of your stereo that was a birthday present from your mother, the very last one that she would ever give you. You examined the track list of some band that Dean insisted that you needed to hear, something from the era you were born in after you stopped by the record shop to pick up a few CDs.

You examined the tracklist for another few seconds before you turned your gaze over to your best friend. Dean was resting his head on his hands that were folded behind him. He looked relaxed, but you could tell that he was drifting off into a deep thinking state. You bit the inside of your cheek, refraining yourself from breaking his concentration. A lump in your throat starts to build up as you begin to realize something; everyone you love leaves you. First it was your father, then Bela Talbot who was so close to becoming your sister, then your mother a short time later. And now you were forcing to see the boys leave after spending a month with them.

You drop the CD to the bed and reach out your hand so it was lingering in Dean’s peripheral vision. It took him a second until he realized that your pinky was right in front of his face. Dean furrowed his brow, "What are you doing?”

“I want you to pinky promise me something.” You told him.

“Seriously? Are we six, or something?” Dean asked. You shot him a dirty look as you keep your pinky right where it was. He rolled his eyes, knowing from your glare alone you were telling him to shut up and do what he was told. He tucked out his hand closest to yours and wrapped his pinky around yours, locking them together. “What’s this for?”

“Promise me you’ll stay safe out there, okay? And remember no matter what—” You were trying your hardest not to let your emotions get the best of you as you spoke to Dean about showing him how scared you were for having to see him go out into a world that you only learned about a few weeks ago. But you couldn’t stop the tears that started to form in your eyes as you thought more about it. Dean quickly stopped looking annoyed when he saw you starting to get upset.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. It’s gonna be okay.” Dean used his free hand to push himself up so he was now sitting up in bed. He tried his hardest to comfort you before you could start crying. You sniffled a few times as you got yourself composed enough so you wouldn’t make an idiot out of yourself. “You ain’t ever getting rid of me, sweetheart. Got that? I’m always gonna be here. Even when you’re gonna want to throw my ass to the curb. Nothing’s gonna stop me from seeing my best friend.”

You let out a laugh from his promise as you felt Dean’s grip around you pinky tighten, letting you know that he would always be true to his word. Dean seemed relieved seeing you shifting emotions. The both of you slowly fell silent as the smallest smile began creeping at the ends of your lips. Suddenly the two of you were reminded about the promise you made one another when you were four and he was six. No matter what…you would always find your way back to each other.

\+ + +

“Y/F/N? Hey, you with us?” 

“Is she okay?” 

“Who the hell is Y/F/N?”

You heard your voice coming out a bit slurred as you slowly came back into consciousness after falling into what you thought was to be a deep slumber, dreaming about some old memory you hadn’t thought about in years. You expected to be lying in the same hospital bed with the same injuries you thought were going to take months to heal from. However you felt sort of strange when you felt yourself standing on your own two feet, arms to you side. Something cold was pressing against the same finger you distinctly remembered being roughly cut off by the same black eyed bitch who you had killed with your only good arm after she snapped the other in half.

You thought what happened to you that landed you in the hospital bed happened just a day ago. But when you opened up your eyes and realized you were really standing on your own two feet, head resting against what felt like someone’s chest, you suddenly felt like you dreaming again. Maybe you didn’t wake up. Your mind still felt cloudy from the medication they had given you to combat the pain. You noticed right away that you were on an empty stretch of road, surrounded by an endless trees on each side of you. For a moment you think that this really is a dream, that is, until you step back from the person holding you. That’s when you remember the conversation you had before you fell back asleep.

You remembered the conversation you had with a certain angel you thought was still alive and on earth, planning his attempts at trying to open up a door to purgatory to get souls to fight a war that had been long over. You were high out of your mind from the drugs, you weren’t thinking properly about what you wanted. You had been through so much over the past year, let alone, the few days. All you wanted was an escape from the world for a little while. You honestly didn’t think Cas would have gone far enough to kill you to get you out of the way. You weren’t sure if this was a dream anymore when you saw a set of familiar faces staring at you.

“Am I…” You had a fate with death and the afterlife when you and the boys were ambushed by a couple of angry hunters while the search for God was nearing a close and the apocalypse was still nipping at your heels. Instead of going to hell like you expected, you were taken upstairs, to a place where you thought you would never be able to go to. "Am I dead?”

The only thing that came to mind when you were in heaven was the long stretch of road you had to follow, recollecting on fond memories you created while living on earth. You furrowed your brow slightly as you stared at the two men you knew as Sam and Dean Winchester, your family. For a split second you think that you really are in the afterlife. But the more you begin to think about your suspicion, the more it starts to feel off. You didn’t have any fond memories in back roads in the middle of the woods that you would wake up to. And if you were in heaven, why the hell was Sam here? You thought your first memory in heaven would be of your beloved, your soulmate, Dean.

You slowly tore your gaze away from the two men and to yourself when you realize that you are standing on your own two feet. Your eyes wandered down to see your left arm looked just fine, beside the familiar ache in your forearm that felt like a cut that was bandaged up with a bandanna from the looks of it. What made you gawk in utter and complete surprise was the sight of your finger. You slowly lifted up your hand to stare at the exact same ring finger that was cut off with a knife by your demon side you had killed with your own bare hands. It was reattached. You tried to move it best that you could, and to your amazement, it bent forward far as possible as it could go. In doing so you felt the coldness of the silver bands you never seen before until today.

You dropped your hand to your side and looked straight up ahead at the two familiar faces that had been stricken silent themselves at what was happening. Something was going on here, and you desperately needed to know. Your lips stretched into a smile as you opened your mouth to get some answers. “Sammy, Dean. What the hell is going on?”

Dean’s expression faltered as he stared at you with complete and utter shock from what you just asked them. You didn’t think you had ever seen him look so relieved in his entire life. Part of him felt like your words alone had made himself forget everything that had unraveled over the past few days. For that moment in time he forgot about his argument with his brother, the year he spent in purgatory, the seven hundred and thirty days he spent without you.

You didn’t think you had ever seen him look so relieved in his entire life. It was like you had told him the best news of his entire life, a surprise he wasn’t expecting to be gifted with so soon. You gave him a slightly confused look from the question he asked you, “You remember us?”

“Of course. Why would I forget you?” You found his question a bit silly. You looked over at his little brother as your eyes narrowed and your lips stretched into a bit of a smirk from what was going on here. You noticed that Sam was just as overjoyed to see you alive and up on your feet. Why the sudden spike in emotion is what you were still trying to figure that out. “Now, can you tell me why the hell I’m standing in the middle of the road in the woods, Sasquatch?”

Sam found himself letting out a chuckle from from hearing the nickname you hadn’t called since you woke up from the surgery that was supposed to help fix your broken arm and severed finger that you almost lost for good. “Uh,” Sam figured it was best to see how much you remembered before getting his hopes up on this outcome. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Being in the hospital, high out of my mind on morphine…talking to Cas.” You thought out loud as you tried to recollect on the memory after being asked by whom you were presuming was the younger Winchester. If he was real or a figment of your imagination was yet to be decided. You slowly looked over at the two brothers as you shrugged your shoulders, silently admitting that it was the last memory you had. “Am I dreaming or something?”

“Sweetheart,” Dean spoke up. You turned your head and looked at the older Winchester when you heard him speak. He opened his mouth and tried to explain the situation best as he could. It made the ends of his lips twitch slightly in how bizarre this was going to sound to you. “This isn’t gonna make a lick of sense to you, but…you’ve been gone for two years.”

You brow furrowed tightly, “What? What do you mean”

“We thought you died in the hospital, Y/N.” Sam admitted to you. You quickly looked over at him from what you heard. Your face only scrunched up even more, making the barely there fine lines around your face become more prominent. He let out a quiet sigh and tried to explain the story to you. “When you were sleeping…the doctors thought a blood clot formed in your arm from the break. They accidentally overlooked it and…well, you were pronounced dead. We burned your body.”

“That’s impossible.” You said. “I’m right here…I’m alive.”

"We realize that now. Because the body we burned wasn’t yours. Cas tricked us, switched yours with the other one to think you were dead. He wiped your memory and made you think you were someone else. Does the name Y/F/N Thompson ring a bell?” Sam asked. You slowly shook your head. “Well, that’s who you’ve been living for the past few years. But do you feel like…”

“Myself? Yeah. I do.” You mumbled your answer. For the first time in a long time, you felt like yourself. You felt more in control in ways that you had never felt before. Not even in the hospital bed, silently wishing for a life out of this. You had gotten that, and while you didn’t remember anything, that little voice in your head was complete and totally silent. You didn’t need to care about that. All you wanted to know about how the past two years went, if everything went okay without you. “So…everything’s okay? I’m human?”

Dean felt himself wanting to break out into a smile from hearing your question that sounded so soft, so innocent as you nervously waited for the answer from one of them. He decided to be the one who gave you the answer that you had been waiting for so long to hear. “Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s okay.”

You suddenly felt yourself breaking out into a wobbly sort of smile as you tried your hardest to wrap your head around what was going on. All though you might not have remembered your time away, and while it felt like it was just hours ago you were recovering from a tragedy. There was a part of you that made it feel like you hadn’t seen the boys in so long. Two years without seeing them? You felt your heart ache even at the thought.

Before Dean could figure out what hit him, you lunged yourself at the older man, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes to try and reach his height. You buried your face into the crook of his neck as you held him tight as you possibly could, as if he was going to vanish from your sight. Dean didn’t hesitate one second in wrapping his arms around your waist and shut his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being complete. His family…back together again. You lifted your feet slightly off the ground as you hung off Dean’s neck while the both of you continued to stay like that for a moment. You inhaled a deep breath of the familiar scent of the man you loved with every fiber of your being. You suddenly never wanted to be apart from him ever again.

The both of you finally separated after spending what felt like forever hugging and enjoying one’s embrace. While you missed Dean, there was someone else that you couldn’t live without much as the man. You turned your attention over to his little brother as you broke out into a smile. You gave him a warning from how your lips turned into a smirk. Sam was taller than most people. That’s how those ridiculous nicknames came about. You did your best as you wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest as you hugged him hard as you tried. There was nothing better than this. You felt like you were home, surrounded by the people you loved. And there was no feeling better than this one.

You pulled away from Sam after spending the same amount of time realizing that he was here and in the flesh, the same way you remembered from the last time you saw him. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling you had been doing. You let out a quiet sigh and stared at the two men with a curious expression. “So, what kind of trouble have you two caused?”

\+ + +

Where to start, where to start? The boys decided to give you a quick rundown of what you had been up to since you were in Angel Witness Protection Program. You had been playing the part of Y/F/N Thompson, a married woman who had been living in Michigan. She was everything you had wanted. Career, parents, friends that weren’t hunters and a loving husband. A few months before you “died”, Y/F/N had gotten into a nasty car accident leaving her in a coma. There was no chance she was going to make it out alive. However, in a miracle twist of events, she awoke with a new face seconds after you had been pronounced dead. Cas must have switched your memories and the bodies before continuing on with his master plan.

Which you were curious about that pesky angel and what he was up to. You asked about Cas, and in doing so, the boys suddenly appeared apprehensive to discuss him. Sam admitted that the angel had gone through with his plan to open the door to purgatory and ate a bunch of souls that was a big power trip that lead him to think that he was God 2.0. Souls weren’t the only thing that leaked through, there was this nasty creature called leviathans that were old as Eve. “They’re basically shapeshifters with teeth…with an appetite for humans.” Then there was the discussion of Dick Roman, the billionaire leader. Dean rolled his eyes at the mention of the name.

“Who chooses to be called Dick? I mean, the jokes alone…”

Dick and his little friends caused some trouble, the boys didn’t go into too much detail about it. They mentioned the reason why they were driving was because they were making a stop in Iowa. It seemed they were looking for a kid name Kevin Tran, a prophet of the Lord. In hearing so, it shifted the conversations into tablets, aka the word of God. The first one they discovered was for the leviathans, the first nasty creature created by the big man himself, and in doing so, He regretted his choices. Which explained why purgatory was created. It was the only spot He could hold them in and every monster you hunted. Dean found the tablet in a stone, and in breaking it, Kevin Tran stepped up to his role without realizing it. The tablet could only be read by the kid. And with the information, they defeated Dick Roman. However the good news was quickly followed with some bad news.

Kevin Tran was kidnapped by Crowley, the bastard who always is trying to put his nose where it didn’t belong. The mention of the king of hell’s name made your arm throb in a phantom pain from what he put you through. Luckily enough, Kevin was smart, he managed to get out of the demons clutches before something bad happened. He had been hiding out in Iowa for the past two months. And since they got you back, it was time to find Kevin and see if he was all right. From the looks of it, Kevin found a safe haven in an abandoned church a few miles out of town. If you had to hide from the king of hell, this seemed like the perfect place to hide. You stepped out from the Impala and into the grassy field, eyeing the building before you approached it.

“A church?” Dean asked his little brother, not seeming so convinced on the idea. “You sure this is right?”

“Barista at the coffee shop swears he’s seen Kevin ducking in here for the past few months.” Sam said. You looked around the place as you followed behind the boys to the front entrance. The younger Winchester tried to open up the front door, however he noticed right away the doors were locked. “Kevin. It’s Sam and Dean Winchester. Open up.”

Sam pressed his ear against the door and listened to see if he could hear the sounds of footsteps from inside. When he noticed it was silent, he shook his head and stepped out of the way, letting his brother pick the lock to grant the three of you access. It took a moment before you watched the double doors slowly began to open. You stepped into the church behind the boys, wondering what sort of trouble awaited you.

You examined the place to see it was well abandoned, but it didn’t lack any sort of graffiti. There was devil traps on the ground from what you could tell. You and the boys turned the corner to walk deeper into the church, that’s when you felt an unexpected gasp of surprise come forth when you felt something cold hit you right in the face. And in opening your mouth, you let some of the substance fall in your mouth, making you realize that it wasn’t just water. It tasted awful, like soap. You quickly shielded your face, trying to stop yourself from getting soaking wet.

“Stop! Stop!” Dean shouted. You wiped your face and spit out the soapy water from your mouth, cringing at the taste it left. You looked forward to see there was some Asian kid standing there with what appeared to be a water gun. “Not leviathans. It’s us.”

“What the hell happened to you guys?” The kid asked.

“Cliff notes? I went to purgatory. Sam hit a dog.” Dean explained to the kid you presumed was Kevin, the prophet you heard a little about. In catching up Kevin to speed, he forgot that he left out those tiny little details to you.

“Wait, what?” You suddenly turned your attention over to the older Winchester from the new sort of information that you heard. Here you thought this entire leviathan problem had been going on for the span of while you were gone. You gave Dean a confused expression, tempted to ask what he meant by that. However you slowly looked over at the kid, who seemed just as confused as who you were. You gave him a smile as you waved. “Hi, Y/N Y/L/N. Kevin, right? Nice to meet you. I’m their best friend/hunting partner. Wish I could have met you sooner, but…I kinda got my brain scrambled. Been living as someone else for the past two years. Only got my memories back about…six hours ago?“

"For real?” Kevin asked, seeming baffled even more at what you admitted.

“Yup. And to think, this is us on a good day.” You said, wiping your face with the sleeve of the blouse you were wearing. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“I guess you could tell me about it. You want some towels?” He asked, you lips stretched into a smile at the offer.

\+ + +

You managed to dry off most of the soapy water you accidentally got a taste of after Kevin jumped you and the boys, thinking you were the monster. You discovered why it tasted so bad when you asked them, leading them to figure out more about these leviathan creatures you heard about on the car ride here to Iowa. It turns out sodium borate, or Borax, a chemical compound found in most cleaning supplies, was what really hurt them. It was like throwing holy water in the face of a demon or cutting a shifter with silver. The stuff didn’t kill them, but it was the only thing that hurt them long enough to fend them off.

The boys found out when Sheriff Jody Mills, who you had met a few years back while working a case in Sioux Falls, accidentally spilled a bucket full of cleaner while cleaning Bobby’s cabin. It seemed sort of…comical to hear that a cleaning substance was the very weakness of something that sounded so powerful and intimidating. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle when Sam was the one who explained it to you while Kevin fetched some towels, but he didn’t seem amused as you were. You shrugged your shoulders and took the towel when Kevin came back. You felt like you dodged a bullet not being around while dealing with those pesky things.

“So, let’s just recap what I’ve missed over the past few years. You’re a prophet of the Lord who, unlike the last one we met, only can read these word of God tablet. Which is what you used to defeat these leviathans. And then you got kidnapped by Crowley, only to escape. Which I was told about, but not the fact that Dean got sent to purgatory. Thanks for the freaking heads up.” You hissed at the older Winchester as you turned your head to give him a dirty glare. “And Sam apparently hit a dog. I’m guessing all of this happened in the span of last year. The year before you guys were dealing with this huge Dick?”

“That’s what she said.” Dean jumped on the opportunity to make a remark on your wording that wasn’t meant to be funny, more of an accidental slip of the tongue. Your glare didn’t change as Sam rolled his eyes from his brother’s childish tendency. The older Winchester thought he was funny. He directed his attention away from your annoyed expression and crossed arms to the familiar devil’s traps on the floor. “Who taught you all of this?”

Kevin took a few steps into the church and said, “I guess…God.”

“God taught you how to trap demons?” Sam repeated the younger man, finding his answer the least bit strange. The God you knew had been long silent. You had a feeling during your time away He didn’t all of a sudden get a change in heart to help out one of his prophets defend himself against a bunch of demons. “Wait, wait, hold on. Crowley kidnapped you. I saw that. But then you left a message saying you escaped. How?”

“Well…First, he took me to a warehouse.” Kevin said, recollecting on the memory as he told you and the boys to catch the three of you to speed on what happened to him. “There was a tablet there, like the last one.” 

“Wait, so there’s another tablet? So another word of God.” Dean suspected. You furrowed your brow slightly from hearing all this mention of all these tablets. From what you remembered Sam telling you about them, they were the spoken word of God written down for only a prophet to read. The first one they discovered was of the leviathans, you wondered what this one that made Crowley go through all this trouble into kidnapping Kevin and have him read it. “How many words of God are there?”

“I just became a prophet, like, a year ago.” Kevin said. His response made the ends of your lips stretch into a slight smirk from his bit of sass to the older Winchester.

“Well, did this tablet have a name?” Sam asked.

”‘Demons.’“ Kevin answered. Your eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity as you asked him what it said about them. "As far as I could tell…everything.”

Kevin told you and the boys about what he could read from the tablet about demons under Crowley’s supervision. He went on about how he couldn’t read much, but what he read was something about hell gates. You didn’t have a good feeling about the mention of the very thing you had dealt with once before. Way back in the day, when Azazel was still alive, his goal was getting over the red tape that Samuel Colt himself had put up himself to stop any demon from opening up a door. It seemed that it wasn’t the only one. You crossed your arms tighter over your body as you asked Kevin about these hell gates.

“There’s one in Wisconsin. The tablet told me how to open it. There were ingredients for a spell.”

“You showed the king of hell how to open a hell gate?” Dean questioned the kid before he could finish his story, thinking he knew the ending. “So that all the demon’s in hell could come out at the same time?”

“What? No. I told Crowley I was opening up a hell gate, but I was reading from another chapter.” Kevin said. You had only known Kevin for all of ten minutes but you had a feeling from the story he told alone you already liked him. Your lips stretched into a smirk as he continued on. “How to destroy demons.”

 

Dean let out a chuckle as he broke out into a smile, “You son of a bitch.”

“Wait, Kevin.” Sam said, bringing up an important question. “Where’s the tablet now?”

“Safe.” The younger man answered. 

 

Sam thought the information was a little bit vague, “Safe where?”

“Hey. As long as it’s safe, okay?” You stopped the younger Winchester from demanding to know the exact location. “Were you able to read anything else off the tablet before stashing it?”

“Only the stuff about closing the gates of hell. Forever.” Kevin said. You found yourself letting out a quiet scoff from how your hearing failed you. You asked again what he said, wondering if your brain was fooling you, or if the words out of the prophet’s mouth were true. “Banish all demons off the face of the earth, lock them away forever. That could be important, right?”

You were stricken silent at hearing the piece of information that you could only dream about. And it took a lot to make you this way. You slowly looked over at the boys to see they were taken back as you were from hearing this. It seemed too good to be true. But it wasn’t. “Closing the gates of hell forever?” Dean repeated what he heard from Kevin, who stood there with a smile of his own. “Yeah. Yeah, that could be important.”

While you were over the moon about hearing this sort of news that could change everything, you found it a bit odd that Sam wasn’t enthusiastic as the rest of you were. Sam nodded his head to the doorway the three of you came in. You followed behind the boys, stepping out to the porch to give the three of you a moment away from Kevin. You weren’t sure what was going on here, but you had a feeling the few years that you were away old feelings had risen to the surface, things that you thought you were long buried.

“Okay, if this kid is right, he’s sitting on a bombshell. Hell, he is the bomb.” Dean said. Sam put both hands on the banister and leaned forward. You noticed that he didn’t seem so thrilled about all of this. “What?”

“That.” Sam mumbled. “I mean, there’s no way that Kevin’s getting out of this intact, is there?”

“Well, I’ve only known the kid for all of five minutes, but from what I’ve seen he’s doing pretty well for himself so far.” You said. You found the remark Sam muttered underneath his breath about getting out a tad bit off. “There’s no running from something like this, Sam. You of all people should know that.”

"Y/N’s right.” Dean said, agreeing with your blunt truth in the matter. “Kevin’s in it, whether he likes it or not.”

It seemed Sam found his brother’s remark a bit funny as his lips twitched into a smirk before it disappeared. “So…free will, that’s only for you?”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Sam, we have an opportunity to wipe the slate clean. We take Kevin to the tablet, he tells us the spell, we send every demon back to hell—forever.” Dean said. He thought that would be enough to get his brother back on board with this plan. But the younger Winchester still stared off into the distance with the same solemn expression. You had a feeling it wasn’t about putting Kevin in danger. “Every single bastard that destroyed our lives. Killed our mother, killed Jess. Y/N’s parents. And you’re not sure?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself up to a standing position, not wanting to discuss this matter anymore with either one of you. You watched as he headed inside the church again, leaving you and Dean by yourselves. You might have been gone for two years, but you would never forget how the boys interacted with one another. Something was off between the both of them. Had something happened that left them that made them act…off? Whatever it was, you were going to get to the bottom of it, along with a few other things while you were at it.

\+ + +

You ambushed the older Winchester outside when Sam said he wanted a few minutes alone to talk to Kevin about something you didn’t ask about. You found Dean with the trunk popped open and him finding all sorts of things the three of you needed to prepare yourselves. You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly made your way forward to the man, walking until you were leaning against the side of the Impala and watched as Dean, in full concentration, gathered all sorts of things and shoved them in the same faded army green duffel bag you and the boys had been using for years. Your lips stretched into a smile when he looked up and saw you standing right next to him.

Dean thought you wandered out here to give the both of you some privacy. He returned the smile as he forgot what he was doing. However before he could lean forward and do what he thought you wanted, you stopped him when you promptly backed away from him and put your index finger just inches from his lips. “When were you going to tell me you were in purgatory?”

You raised your brow as you crossed your arms over your chest again, giving him the indication that you weren’t going to back out of this conversation until you got an answer. Dean let out a sigh. “Soon.” He said. Your expression showed him you didn’t believe a single world he said. “You just got back, sweetheart. I didn’t want to bombard you with everything while you were—“

“Supposedly dead? Well, here I am. What you’re not gonna do is coddle me. I might have been gone for two years, but I’m still the same person. Hell, I’m better. I’m the new and improved me. And….well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like crap.“ You told the man. Dean found himself smiling at your blunt behavior he missed so much. You didn’t let that brief moment of happiness stop you from getting to the bottom of this situation. Your expression changed into a softer one as you asked him again. "What happened in there, Dean?”

You heard stories about the place and Crowley’s desperate attempts at trying to find the place for the sake of the souls. But you didn’t see it first hand. Dean contemplated for a long moment if he wanted to talk about it again. He knew you wouldn’t stop bugging him until he told you just a little bit of the truth. “It was bloody. Messy. Thirty-one flavors of bottom-dwelling nasties. Hell, most days felt like three-sixty-degree combat.” Dean said. You listened to the story about what the man had been through over the past year. A blank, serious expression crossed his face as he recollected on the memory fresh in his mind. "But there was something about being there. Felt pure.”

Purgatory was a place where everything wicked that you were taught to hunt ended up there, every monster you could think of didn’t land in hell or heaven. They were sent to a place where it was nothing but nonstop fight for your life. And Dean was sent there after killing Dick Roman. You found his last words sort of…haunting, in a way. You didn’t understand why he would find a place like that “pure” as he called it. To Dean, it was a place where he spent three hundred and sixty five days of his life running. He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat. All he did was track down the monsters his father told him to kill. It was the thrill of the kill, winning the battle against the enemy.

“And what about Sam?” You asked him. “He apparently hit a dog…”

“Right.” Dean cleared his throat, concentrating again on the conversation when he found himself drifting into his personal thoughts. “Short version of it: Sam hit a dog, met a woman named Amelia and retired from hunting for a year. Guess he needed a break from everything.“

You furrowed your brow slightly from what you heard. You looked back over at the church where the younger man was currently in with Kevin, the prophet he abandoned for a year, talking. You wondered what about. Was he apologizing to the kid for abandoning him for all this time? In the beginning of hunting with the boys Sam was the one who wanted out of this lifestyle he known since he was a baby. He wanted college, a girlfriend and no monsters to fight. But he quickly learned that wasn’t possible after he had all of that taken away. So he stuck with hunting and saved people because that’s what he always known to do.

What made you upset was the fact that he left everything and a poor kid behind who was dragged into this mess against his will. Much as all of you craved a normal life, you knew it was time to get serious when lives were in danger. If Sam really saw Kevin get kidnapped by Crowley, why didn’t he do anything about it? You let out a sigh as you thought about a question that made you feel slightly guilty over the decisions you made while in a bitter state. Would have things been different if you didn’t want to have a break from your life?

"Well, if Sam wanted out so badly, why didn’t he leave Kevin with Bobby?”

You asked the question out of sheer curiosity, knowing damn well it was wishful thinking that things wouldn’t have completely fallen apart while you were gone. You and the boys died what felt like a thousand times over again, but you didn’t think the man you thought as your own father would ever be gone. Bobby was always there when you needed him the most. It seemed the mention of the older man’s name sent almost a pained expression on Dean’s face. You could feel your shoulders slumping when you knew. You seen that face before.

You could feel your heart suddenly stop as your eyes began to unwillingly water at the thought. But you didn’t let yourself think it, you didn’t let yourself believe that was such a thing. You quickly cleared your throat and sniffled only once before forcing yourself to think of another question, another person that you were missing here. All of a sudden you remembered Cas, the pesky angel who was the reason why you spent two years playing a different person, and much longer if the boys didn’t realize it themselves.

“What about Cas?” You wondered about the angel. “Where’s he?”

“Purgatory. He got sent there with me when we killed Dick, together.” Dean explained to you. You seemed rather surprised to hear the news. The last time you saw the angel you would have wished him dead and spat in his face. But time passed, and it seemed Cas had learned that power really wasn’t worth all of it. “The wall in Sam’s head collapsed after you were gone. And it was bad. Everything he went through in the cage came out. And he had a constant Lucifer on his shoulder 24/7. It got to the point where he couldn’t sleep he was going crazy. Luckily…Cas came to the rescue. He really helped Sammy get better.”

“God, if I knew things were going to be this bad…” You muttered, letting out a breath as you suddenly felt guilty over the choices you made. You looked up at the older Winchester with a solemn expression. “I should have been here for you guys. I shouldn’t have wanted to get out—”

“Hey, you’re back. And that’s all that matters, sweetheart. Besides, I think we managed without you. Barely—but we managed.” Dean said. You couldn’t help yourself but smile slightly. You found yourself mindlessly playing with the ring on the same finger that you had almost lost, Dean noticed that it was the diamond ring that signified a life long commitment. “Remember Becky? Creepy number one fan of those books, dated Chuck Shurley before he dumped her?”

“What? They broke up?” You quickly looked up at the older Winchester with surprise at what you just heard. Dean found your reaction a little weird, prompting you to roll your eyes. “I set them up. I thought they were cute. And I thought it would somehow help with her unhealthy obsession with Sam.“

"Well, it didn’t. She had the brilliant idea of trying to sell her soul to a demon to make Sammy fall in love with her. The two of them were at some church trying to elope. It was hilarious.” Dean said. You found yourself breaking out into a smile as you let out a quiet laugh from the thought alone. “I mean, she could have been the first Mrs. Winchester.”

Your lips stretched into a smirk at the mention of a title that you were secretly thinking about for the longest time. You raised your brow as you wandered closer to the older Winchester and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hmm. What a tragedy that would have been.”

"It sure would have, sweetheart.” Dean whispered. You felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him as humanly possible. Your eyes wandered away from the handsome face you loved so much and to the pair of lips you had been thinking nonstop about. You let out a giggle when you felt Dean lean forward, capturing you into a kiss that you had been wanting to do since you first remembered him. It was every bit romantic and mesmerising from the last time you shared a moment like this. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

“Long as I have, I bet.“ You said. You quickly pecked him on the lips before you dropped your hands so they were now resting on his chest. "I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Dean said. You felt a sense of happiness come over you at hearing three little words you didn’t hear very often from him. But each time it never ceased to make you feel overjoyed. You were about ready to get back to the church, thinking your heart to heart was over. Before you could move, you suddenly felt Dean’s hands sneak a grab somewhere that made you let out a small gasp of surprise. “God, I missed this ass.”

“Dean!“ You hissed at him, slapping his hands away. You refrained yourself from smiling as you shook your head, attempting to make it seem like you weren’t in the mood for his behavior. “It’s nice to know some things never change.”

\+ + +

You headed back into the church and spent the next hour trying to occupy yourselves of trying to figure out what all of you wanted to do. Since you knew there was a way to close the gates of hell forever, you couldn’t just get the tablet. You needed time and a plan. However it seemed none of those things were going to be a possibility today. You were sitting on one of the pews when you felt something strange happen. You looked down at the ground when you felt what you believe was vibrations, and it was. Slowly it increased more until the entire floorboards were jumping out of place, destroying the devil’s trap Kevin had set up himself. You mentally cursed to yourself, knowing exactly who was in charge of this mess.

There was only one demon-killing knife between the three of you. Dean didn’t think twice about giving his brother the knife for protection, which pissed you off slightly, but you had two hands to beat the hell out of however many demons Crowley sent your way. You pushed yourself up to your feet as Dean pulled something out from the duffel bag, a weapon that looked make shifted out of wood and stone carved to a sharp point. You furrowed your brow and cautiously asked what the hell that was, Dean replied it was purgatory. You quickly dropped your hand to your side, wondering if it was from the place, and how many people he had to kill with it.

Not too long after getting prepared for the worst, you heard the double doors being kicked wide open, revealing the two goons the king himself sent after you and the boys. How they managed to find you was a mystery. You stepped back and made your way over to Kevin when you saw two smiling demons, seeming happy to spot a few fellow hunters they heard rumors about.

“Dean Winchester. Back from purgatory.” The first demon spoke up, noticing right away the fellow oldest hunter of the infamous Winchester family was back. You narrowed your eyes slightly when you saw his gaze linger over to you. "Y/N Y/L/N, we all thought you were good as dead. Where they been hiding you all this time, sweetheart?”

“Needed a vacation after what your piss poor king did to me. Well…tried to do. Look at how that turned out. I know all of you missed me. I missed killing your asses. So come on.” You taunted them, your lips stretch into a smirk. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna tell your boss when I see him: Suck it, bitches.”

The demons didn’t seem to find your welcoming words the least bit nice. You took another step back and watched as each of them charged forward, but before they could get close to you or Kevin, the boys attempted to take them down. Dean went after one as Sam attacked the other. You might have been out of the game for the past few years, but you weren’t out of practice. The boys attempted to try and take down the demons before they could do anything stupid. However it didn’t take much time until Sam found himself losing the fight when he was accidentally taken off guard, sending him and the knife tumbling to the floor.

You suddenly saw the demon coming in your direction, giving you no chance to defend yourself. But before he could lay a finger on you, Kevin acted quickly, grabbing a bottle of holy water and squirting it in the demon’s face, giving you enough time to snatch the knife up from the floor. You quickly plunged the blade into the demon’s back, killing him instantly. You quickly looked forward to see that Dean was winning the fight, but barely. He had managed to slam the demon into a table, but the demon had his hands wrapped around Dean’s neck, squeezing the life out him. You raced forward and stabbed the remaining demon straight in the heart, making him release the grip around Dean’s neck, giving him a chance to finally breathe.

“My God.” You muttered, inhaling a deep breath from the chaos that had just unfolded right in front of your very eyes. You looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was back on his feet and Dean was catching his breath after nearly being strangled to death. “How did the both of you survive this long without me?”

“Hello, boys.” Most of the time you were lucky enough to deal with some of the goons that Crowley sends over, thinking a few of his best were enough to take down you and the boys. But it seemed you were in the presence of royalty tonight from the familiar accent you heard from behind. You felt the grip around the knife tighten as you looked over your shoulder to see the demon you hadn’t seen in two long years, since he got the idea to try and kill you. Your expression hardened in anger when you spotted a young woman behind him. However your attention only lingered on her for a moment before you looked back over at Crowley. “Kitten. My, it’s been a while. Hasn’t it? You’re looking refreshed.“

"Yeah. Two years off can really do wonders for a girl. And, of course, last time I saw your ugly face I wasn’t looking my best. But thanks to your brilliant schemes I’m finally human. I never got to personally thank you for that.” You said, giving him a forced smile. “I see the whole purgatory plan fell through. I hope Cas passed on my message.”

“Yes. And what way of words you have. Frankly I’m glad you’re back in business. I was missing our witty banter we used to pass on back and forth. And speaking of, Dean. You’re looking… Well, let’s just say purgatory didn’t do you any favors.” Crowley tried his hardest to greet the older Winchester with a friendly compliment, but the demon found himself falling short. The demon looked around at the four of you, expecting someone in a trench coat to be around here somewhere, but it seemed Castiel was missing. “Where’s your angel?”

“Ask your mother.” Dean replied.

“There’s that grade-school zip. Missed it. I really did.” Crowley said. You rolled your eyes as the demon’s attention lingered over to the tallest Winchester. “Moose. Still with the pork chops. I admire that.”

“Let Channing go.” Kevin suddenly spoke up, demanding the young woman standing behind the demon to be set free. You furrowed your brow slightly, having a feeling she was someone that Kevin had personally known.

“That’s not Channing, Kevin.” Dean said. “Not anymore.”

“What an awful thing to say to the boy. Of course it’s Channing.” Crowley said, pretending to be offended at the accusation. He directed his attention to the prophet. “Kev. Last time we danced, you stole my tablet and killed my men. Tell you what. Come with me now, bygones. And I’ll let the girl go back to…what’s-the-point u.”

“He’s lying.” Dean spoke up, thinking he could see right through the demon’s lies that sounded too good to be true if they were. “You won’t get Channing back. She’s probably dead already.”

Crowley let out a sigh from the accusation, “Will you please stop saying that? Let the girl speak.”

It took the snap of Crowley’s fingers for the real Channing to come out, reassuring all of you she was perfectly fine. She blinked, making the black eyes of the demon possessing her disappear, as the real her began to piece together what was going on. Her gaze went over to someone she recognized from the smile that stretched across her lips. “Kevin? What’s going on?”

“There’s a demon in you, and you’re going to your safety school. But it’s gonna be okay.” Kevin tried explaining the situation to his girlfriend in the seconds they had together. Crowley found all of this boring, and with another snap of his finger, the demon possessing Channing was back front and center. It left Kevin with not many options left. “Okay. I’ll do it. Myself for the girl. But this ends. All right? No fighting, no nothing. It ends.”

“Can’t let you do that, buddy.” You said.

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Kevin questioned you. You gave him a look to show him you weren’t the least bit amused by his sass, Crowley found the banter all too amusing as he let out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll grab my stuff.”

“Chin up, gentlemen.” Crowley reassured you and the boys. “I’m a professional.”

“Professional at being a dick, maybe.” You remarked back. “King of hell? Not so much.”

“This ain’t over by a long shot, Crowley.” Dean threatened the demon.

“Really, Dean, who writes your stuff? A marshmallow?” Crowley asked, not seeming to be the least bit amused. You rolled your eyes and tempted the idea of gutting the demon right here and now to get all of this over with. But you waited. Kevin was taking an awfully long time grabbing his stuff, and the demon was growing rather impatient with each passing second. He decided that after calling out the prophet’s name twice he would see what was taking so long. However when he stepped in your direction, you tightened your grip around the knife and pointed it in his direction, showing you weren’t afraid to use it on him. However it seemed the king had a trick up his sleeve. Suddenly the handle of the knife grew scorching hot, to the point where you dropped it. “Retract the claws, Kitten.”

You opened your palm and examined the damage to your skin, forcing the demon to go on his way, Channing following behind. You rolled your eyes from the cheap trick he used on you as Dean picked up the knife to see if it was still hot, but it seemed that it was back to normal now. You and the boys waited for Kevin to finally come out with his belongings he’d been carrying around for the past year. However, as if you really think the kid was going to give up that easily, he had a trick up his sleeve to trap the demons long enough for the four of you to get the hell out of here.

“Guys, run!”

Kevin’s command echoed through the church, giving you and the boys the signal to do just that. You headed outside in record speed and headed for the backseat as the brothers swiftly opened up the front doors to the Impala. Kevin came out from the back he escaped from and joined you in the back. The four of you were off on the road, but Crowley wanted to make sure he left Kevin with some payback for what he did. The demon possessing his girlfriend disappeared, but it didn’t leave Channing in one piece. Kevin watched as her neck twisted into an odd angle that you made you almost picture the snapping sound it made, and just like that, her dead body hit the ground. You gritted your teeth in what the poor kid had to watch unfold. You were going to get that son of a bitch, you thought. Even if it killed you.

\+ + +

It was a day and a half drive until Dean thought it was safe enough for all of you to get some rest at a motel after stopping for gas. You wished that things could have ended differently back at the church, but Crowley knew better than to leave behind any survivors. It was one of the things Kevin was going to have to learn while being in this lifestyle. The people you love were going to get hurt. You checked all of you in with a credit card you found in the wallet that used to belong to Y/F/N. Heading back to the Impala with the room keys, you noticed that Kevin still had the same expression on his face since you were on the main road out of Iowa. 

“Kevin?” You spoke the young man’s name in a soft tone. “How are you holding up?”

“Awesome. The king of hell just snapped my girlfriend’s neck.” Kevin answered your question, making you feel slightly guilty for asking. “How ‘bout you?”

You refrained yourself from rolling your eyes from his tone of voice alone. You shifted your gaze over to the boys, the three of you sharing a look of uneasiness at how things ended for the poor kid. He didn’t ask to be apart of this. Dean, however, wasn’t in the mood to coddle the kid. “All right, listen to me. I’m sorry about your girlfriend, I am. But the sooner you get this, the better. You’re in it now whether you like it or not. That means you got to do what you got to do.”

“Well, I think we could have approached that a little less blunt, but…Dean’s got a point. You’re in this situation. The best thing to do is keep your nose clean. I’m sorry about how things turned out. Maybe a good night’s rest will make you feel a little better.” You said. You outstretched your arm, giving Kevin the key to his own motel room. “Sam’s next door to you. Dean and I will be a few doors down if you need anything.”

Kevin snatched the key out of your hand and went on his way. Sam took the key from you with a smile and followed behind the kid, leaving you and his brother alone. You let out a faint sigh and looked over at the older Winchester. Much as this situation ended with a bitter ending, you were at least a bit happy you could spend the first night back to your old self with the man you loved. You lifted up the key room to show Dean and nodded your head to the motel. The both of you headed to the room and unlocked the door, revealing another run of the mill motel room with a queen sized bed.

"Weird to say this, but am I glad to see a motel room.” You muttered, stepping inside the room as Dean followed behind. He shut the door and tossed the bags to the bed. You looked around the room to see that it was decently clean. “I’m gonna take a nice, long hot shower and a nap. We’ll have dinner around six-ish?”

“Sounds good to me.” Dean said. You smiled and leaned forward, pressing your lips against his before heading to the bag he packed you full of different clothes that were once Y/F/N. You didn’t even want to know what the boys did with your old clothes. They probably got rid of them so they wouldn’t have a constant reminder of you. As you were about to pull out some cleans and a clean shirt, Dean’s phone started ringing. You furrowed your brow slightly and gave him a confused look, wondering who that could be. “Hello? Wrong number. Automated jackass.”

You laughed quietly as you bundled up the clothes into a pile. You made it a few steps to the bathroom before you found yourself stopping in your tracks. Something had been bothering you since last night. You wanted to ask when you mentioned his name, but you were too afraid to hear the answer. “Hey, Dean?” You heard the man let out a quiet hum as he looked over at you. You let out a sigh and forced yourself to ask the question burning in the back of your mind. “Is Bobby still alive?”

Dean flinched slightly at your question. He didn’t answer you right away, but you had a feeling you knew from how he acted. He gestured a hand for you to come over. You sat on the bed with him as he wrapped an around your body, pulling you close to him, knowing this was going to be hard to hear. “He…He got captured while on a hunt. Dick Roman shot him in the head.” Dean explained to you. The details of the situation made your eyes widen in horror as you inhaled a breath. Dean found himself smiling at the memory. “He didn’t die right away. The son of a bitch fought for his life. Even after his death he helped us a few times. But…eventually me and Sam had to put him to rest.”

You fell silent for a moment as you processed the information that you heard. You swallowed slightly as you realized the man you had viewed as a father figure passed away shortly after you did. At least, that’s what he thought. He died thinking you were as well. You looked at the older Winchester as you tried to think about the kind of shenanigans Bobby pulled while being a ghost. But even the good memories couldn’t stop the soul crushing reality that he was gone. Your smile slowly faded as your eyes began to glaze over with tears that you had been fighting off. Dean didn’t say anything. He pushed you closer to him so your head was resting on his chest, letting you cry and mourn the loss of a man you thought would live forever.


	2. What's Up, Tiger Mommy?

You were always the second one to wake up in the morning, Sam being the first and Dean managing to be last way after you and his brother got ready for the day. You managed somehow to beat the younger Winchester by a few hours after you rose a little after the sun did. Most of the time you would take any chance to sleep in a little longer and enjoy what rest you were going to get. Something was bound to keep you up for hours, a hunt, maybe research. But for the first time in your life you felt rested, happy to start the day. Because this morning wasn’t like any other one, this was the first one you got to spent being an actual human being. No demon side of you hidden underneath, no monster yanking on you to do what they wanted. You were just like everyone else in this world, and it felt so damn good to say that.

Your first activity this morning after waking up this early only insane people and those against their will for work was showering and finding a decent cup of coffee. You wanted to get back into your old routine of running like how you used to do before you started hunting, but the clothes Dean packed for you consisted nothing more of a few pairs of jeans and some wrinkled shirts, along with what looked like some nice black slacks and a blouse, good for when you might need to play a federal agent. But it wouldn’t be enough to keep on hunting without running out of clothes quickly.

You had a few hundred bucks and some credit cards in Y/F/N’s wallet. So you decided when it was later in the morning you went shopping for some clothes that you liked. Some flannel and other clothes you hoped wouldn’t get ruined by blood or ripped while hunting down a monster along with some cute boots and sneakers you spotted that were on sale. You felt a little bad for spending much money as you did, but it was a fresh start. New you, new clothes.

You headed back to the motel a few hours later with an armful of bags sitting in the backseat of the Impala some breakfast, thinking everyone had to be up by now. You headed to your motel room after greeting a good morning to a still peeved Kevin and Sam, who seemed rather surprised to see you rather cheerful. You expected Dean to be up by now and showered, or at least sitting up in bed with a bit of a grumpy look on his face. He hadn’t slept at all last night. When you woke up every few hours he was tossing and turning, attempting to get comfortable, but you had a feeling he was afraid to close his eyes.

Dean acted the same way when he got out of hell with you four years ago. On edge, bottling up his emotions and constantly looking over his shoulder as if something was following him. He lost a lot of sleepless nights because of the torture. You had a feeling whenever he closed his eyes he was reminded of purgatory, the constant running, the smell of death and fear in the air.

You opened up the door to see that Dean wasn’t awake and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but he was in fact passed out. You felt a smile spreading across your lips at the sight of him laying on his back with his forearm resting across his eyes, blocking out the morning sun that softly shined into the room. You shut the door and quietly made your way into the room, setting down the keys and still hot coffee to the table. Much as you enjoyed seeing him sleeping, all of you needed to hit the road soon. You made your way over to the bed and slipped your hand underneath the pillow, sneakily grabbing the loaded gun he placed there every night for safety and placed it on the nightstand.

You sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pushed his shoulder, expecting for that to wake him up, but he remained as he was. You whispered his name as you tried again. But he was still passed out. However you heard him mumble a name as he dropped his am to the bed. “Benny.” You furrowed your brow slightly as you tried once more to wake up Dean, but it seemed he was lost in his dream, probably about purgatory when you saw his sleeping face scrunch up. You let out a sigh and placed a hand on his cheek, your thumb softly brushing against his skin as you continued to talk to him in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

“Time to wake up, Dean.” You told him. You watched as your words seemed to have some kind of effect on him. It took a few seconds before you saw his eyes rip wide open, and for a second he still thought he was in purgatory. You saw him try to grab your wrist, but you quickly stopped him, wrapping your hands around his own, squeezing the flesh. You smiled at him when you saw the look in his eye he got when he went up against a monster. For a split second he thought you were one. Your face slowly transitioned him back into reality. “Hey, hey. It’s me. It’s Y/N. You’re fine. You’re not in purgatory anymore. It’s just me.”

It took Dean a moment to adjust back into reality and realize that you were holding his hand that almost grabbed your wrist into a bruising grip while the other slipped underneath the pillow for the gun he put there last night. His expression turned to slight panic when he felt nothing but coldness from underneath the pillow. But when he saw it resting on the nightstand, he figured out what was going on. He stared at your smiling face and how the sun came through the window, almost making you look like you were glowing. A glowing beacon of hope that kept him from going full crazy in purgatory and staying there for the rest of his life. He suddenly let go of your wrist as he felt guilty. You didn’t let go of his hand as you clutched it tighter, squeezing the flesh to remind him you were very much real, not a figment of his imagination.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Dean muttered underneath his breath as he quickly pushed himself up to a sitting position in bed. You let go of him as you dropped one hand to your lap as the other closet to him reached out and rested your palm against his cheek, giving him a look of worry. He cherished the feeling of your skin against his and everything you did lately since you got back. Seeing you smile made Dean feel a little less on edge. He reached up and softly wrapped his fingers around your wrist that was near his face. “Did I startle you?”

“Of course not. I’m fine.” You reassured him, smiling again as you rubbed your thumb across the scruffiness of his cheek. Dean always was mostly clean shaven, but you liked the feeling of the small bristles against your skin. It reminded you of your father in a way. The feeling made you feel safe, loved. Your gaze softened as you asked a question you knew he wasn’t going to talk about with you. But it was worth a try. “Did you dream about purgatory?”

Every fiber of Dean wanted to lie and say no, he was just having a bad dream. But he didn’t feel like lying with the wounds still fresh in his mind. "Yeah. I did.” He admitted that much to you. You let out a sigh as you asked him if he wanted to talk about it, Dean shook his head no. He looked around the room and tried to find a distraction to get him from thinking about his nightmare even more. He looked over at the table to see there was a tray and two cups of coffee along with a paper bag. “Breakfast?”

“Yeah. I got some goodies at this bakery I spotted not too far from here. I got you some pie. Thought it might be a good pick me up for the drive ahead of us.” You said. You watched as Dean nearly jumped out of bed at the mention of his favorite dessert for breakfast. You pushed yourself up to your feet as Dean headed to the table, snatching up the paper bag to peek inside. However in two seconds flat, his face dropped. “God, you’re so gullible.”

“You don’t joke about something like that, Y/N.” Dean said. You broke out into a smile as you let out a quiet chuckle. Dean thought to himself about how beautiful you looked in that moment. He dropped the bag to the table and reached for the coffee instead. “Good thing you’re cute.”

“Mmm. Just cute?” You asked him, making your way over to the man as you made your way over to him. You leaned in close to him, almost as if you were about to give him a kiss, but you quickly snatched the coffee out of his hands, making you let out another soft giggle at what you did. “I was hoping along the lines of adorable.”

You were about to take a sip of your drink, but you couldn’t with Dean’s when you felt Dean’s arm snake around your waist and pull you close to him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, momentary distracting you from the subtle touch he knew would always make you putty in his hands. The both of you enjoyed one another’s embrace before pulling away, making you catch your breath at how good of a kisser he was.

“I was gonna say drop dead sexy, but I was just being subtle.” Dean whispered. You narrowed your eyes on the man playfully when you felt the cup being released from your hands. Before you could fight him for it, you watched as he took a sip of it before letting out a loud, “Ahh. That’s a damn good cup of coffee. Thanks, sweetheart.”

\+ + +

“I think it’s a good idea.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re kidding me.”

“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full, Dean.” You scolded the man for his rude behavior, your nose scrunching up slightly at seeing the half chewed burger he’d been eating before the both of you got into this argument. “I agree with Kevin on this one.”

Dean, however, remained where he stood on the idea as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back in the seat. The four of you were packed up and getting ready to hit the road again to find the tablet whee Kevin stashed it. All of you grabbed lunch before setting off, and that’s when the argument began. Kevin wanted to make a pit stop on someone he cared deeply about and hadn’t seen in a year. You were siding with the kid while Sam was silent, Dean was the only one who was giving a fuss about it. You still weren’t giving up on this fight. 

“What? Is it too much to ask if we can swing by and check on my mom?” Kevin asked. You were the one who approached the conversation when you noticed he had grown less angry this morning and more worried, that’s when Kevin confessed that he wanted to see his own flesh and blood. You reassured him that you could, but Dean wasn’t giving up so easily. 

“‘Swing by?’” Dean repeated what he heard the kid say. “It’s a day’s drive in the opposite direction. You know that, right?”

“Yes. I understand we’re in a hurry.” Kevin said, knowing how his suggestions made a few complications in the plan of grabbing the tablet and the limited time on your side. Dean asked what was the problem of why he wanted to do this in the first place. “Channing’s broken neck is my problem! As in I’d rather not see my mom twisted into a corkscrew.”

“Kid’s got a point, Dean.” Sam spoke up, looking up from the newspaper he had been reading with his food already devoured. You raised your brow when you looked over at the older Winchester. It was three against one, making Dean realize he was being ganged up on.

“Stay out of this. It’s bad enough Y/N is getting involved.” Dean argued with his brother. You rolled your eyes as Sam turned his attention back to the article he was reading, a smile spreading across his lips at the antics you and his brother were falling into again when neither one of you agreed on something. “Kevin, your mom is fine.”

A waitress who had been serving you came over with your food, making the argument pause for a moment as you smiled at the woman and thanked her. When she was far enough away, Kevin spoke up. “How can you possibly know that?”

“Because Crowley needs her to be, okay?” Dean tried to reassure the kid, but that wasn’t enough stop the worried look on Kevin’s face. “In fact, he’s probably got the place stacked with bodyguards right now, protecting her so that when you do show up, they’ll pounce on you both.”

Kevin’s brow furrowed from the picture the hunter painted for him, “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“She’s bait, man, plain and simple. And you want to swim right up and bite the hook” Dean asked the younger man. Kevin’s blank expression was enough to answer his question with one he didn’t want to hear. “Look, we have got Crowley by the short and curlies, okay? All we need to do is find the tablet, whip up the spell, and—boom!—sunshine and sandy beaches.”

Kevin let out a sigh and reiterated what the older Winchester said, making it sound complicated and terrifying in the way he saw it. “Dean, my mom’s all alone. She’s surrounded by demons. Can you really not understand why I want to make sure she’s okay?”

“I know what Crowley is capable of. We all do. Just because Mrs. Tran is surrounded by a bunch of demons doesn’t mean she’s safe. Remember what happened to me and…you know.” You mentioned someone who shouldn’t be named, making Dean flinch at the memory of a woman he forgot like how me made her. But it seemed he was still holding his ground. “How about this? You and Sam get the tablet, Kevin and I will go check on Mrs. Tran. Sound good? Good.”

Dean looked over at his younger brother for some kind of help on this one after you came up with an idea that he felt was ridiculous. Sam shrugged his shoulders, seeming on board with the plan. Dean huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. “Son of a bitch!” He grunted, putting his burger to the plate and throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“I knew you would see things our way.” You said, your lips curled into a smile as you reached out a hand to grab the food you ordered. Dean rolled his eyes again from your smug attitude. “And it’s cute. You thinking you had a choice.”

Dean didn’t say anything. He grabbed his half-eaten burger and continued on to finish his food, refraining himself from having the last word. Because he knew you would surly pipe in and say something back. All of you finished up lunch and headed out on the road, making a pit stop to Michigan again to see how Mama Tran was handling the year long absence from her son.

\+ + +

It took little under a day’s drive to get back to Michigan where Kevin used to continue on day to day with his his normal life with college just around the corner, until becoming a prophet of the Lord tore him away from his family and future education. You leaned against the backseat Impala door as Kevin face forward his house that was across the street to see if he could spot his mother either outside enjoying today’s sunny afternoon like a few other people. Perhaps she was roaming inside the empty house, wondering where her son had wandered off to. Sam tried to get a better view with a pair of binoculars.

“Tiger mom, nine o’clock.” Sam whispered, spotting the woman.

Kevin didn’t hesitate a second in snatching the binoculars from the younger Winchester to take a look for himself. “Where?” Kevin questioned the man. When Sam said he spotted her at the left window of the house, Kevin directed his attention to said area, making him spot a face that he had been thinking about nonstop for the past year. He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his mother standing out the window, as if she was trying to find him. “She seems okay. Sad…but okay.”

You smiled slightly at hearing the news, glad to know that she was all right after all this time. But just because Mrs. Tran was safe, it didn’t mean that trouble lurked around her. “Check out the mailman.” Dean said, spotting something that seemed off while he inspected the surroundings. You furrowed your brow slightly as you leaned forward while Kevin spotted the mailman. He shrugged, wondering what the big deal was. He knew the man as Carl, but Dean had a feeling it wasn’t Carl anymore. “Yeah, well, Carl’s filled your mom’s mailbox three times since we’ve been sitting here.”

“You think he’s a demon?” You suspected.

“And see the gardener?” Dean brought your attention to an older man just a few feet from the house, watering a lilac bush. You might have been far away not to be able to see Mrs. Tran, but you could see her front yard and stone steps were saturated with water. “Think that plant needs more water?”

“Well, guess we can say demons suck at their day job.” You muttered. You looked over at the boys and raised your brow slightly, wondering what the next plan of action was. “Which one do you wanna fire first?”

You and the boys decided to go after the gardener first as he would be the easiest to lure out, Carl would just have to wait. You snuck inside the back with the help of Kevin and found the source of the water. Turning it off, you unhooked the hose, setting the trap for the demon. It took only a few seconds for the water pressure to slow down and stop completely. The demon dressed as the gardener grumbled to himself and made his way to the backyard, not suspecting anything of it. That was, until Dean got the jump on him, shoving the knife into his chest, killing him and the human he was possessing. 

The gardener didn’t give much of a fight, but he would have his friend Carl the mailman who would be poking his nose around here to see what made that screaming sound. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for Carl to show up. It took only a moment until you saw the fence door to the backyard swing open, revealing the other demon. You smiled and waved at him, distracting him long enough for Dean to come out from his hiding spot and stab Carl right in the chest, taking him by surprise as he did with his other friend. Dean threw him down to the small basement stairway with the other demon, leaving them for later to worry about.

The both of you headed back to Kevin and Sam when the younger Winchester made sure the coast was clear from anymore demons wandering around the place. When it appeared to be safe enough, Kevin made his way to the front door, knocking on the house he hadn’t stepped into for over a year, to see his own mother who had been worried sick about him. You could tell from the look on his face as you hid right next to the door that he was a bit nervous. But a smile of pure happiness spread across his face when Mrs. Tran opened up the door, revealing her son, back in one piece.

“Oh! Kev—Kevin!” Mrs. Tran exclaimed, her voice beaking as she found herself overwhelmed with joy and happiness. However before she could embrace her son into a hug, you had to make sure she was human. You stepped out from the side of the house you had been hiding in and threw a flask of holy water in her face. While her skin didn’t burn, she was a bit stunned at what you did. “What…”

“She’s clean.” You announced to the boys and Kevin. When she wiped away the water and saw you standing there with the Winchesters right beside you. You gave her an apologetic smile and shrugged your shoulders. Mrs. Tran didn’t think much of it, she was too caught up in embracing her son into a tight hug. You were happy at the sight to see the both of them reunited together. But as you inhaled a breath, you suddenly felt your nose wrinkling slightly, getting a whiff of a smell that you knew was bad news. “Do you smell that?”

It was the smell of rotten eggs, sulfur. You and the boys didn’t waste a second in heading into the house to see where else one of Crowley’s goons were hiding. Maybe you missed one and snuck inside. Maybe they were hiding in some sweet old lady. You followed the smell into the kitchen to see an older woman standing there with a angry glare on her face. She was all set to jump out of the meat suit she’d been possessing for God knows how long and tattle on you four to her boss. Before she could successfully execute her plan, Sam suddenly shouted a bunch of words in what sounded like Latin, making the demon smoke he shoved back into her body.

Dean quickly stabbed the woman with the knife, killing her before she could do anything stupid. You heard Mrs. Tran let out a sharp gasp in horror at what she saw unravel. She shouted her friend’s name as the woman fell to the kitchen floor, dead. You looked over at the woman and told her the bitter truth, that wasn’t her friend Eunis anymore.

Once the boys got Eunis with the rest of the dead bodies out in the backyard, all of you headed into the living room to discuss what Mrs. Tran saw and what her son had been doing. She sat on the couch with her son as the boys took a spot on the love seats across from them. You sat on the armrest on the chair where Dean sat with your arms crossed your over chest as Mrs. Tran learned her friend was hiding another personality that wasn’t worried one bit about her son.

“Mrs. Tran, your friend was possessed by a demon.” Sam explained to the woman. She seemed a bit taken back at the information as she stared at the three of you with a slight confused expression.

“Have you ever seen ‘The Exorcist’?” Kevin asked his mother, trying to come up with an example for her to understand.

“Is that what you’ve been doing all year—watching television?” Mrs. Tran asked the young man in true motherly fashion. You smiled slightly at how she was. However it slowly faded when she looked over at you. “Did you really have to kill her?”

“The demon would have warned Crowley where Kevin was if we didn’t.” You told her.

Mrs. Tran thought about what you said and looked over at her son, “And Crowley is the one who kidnapped you?”

“Yeah.” Kevin said. “He needs me to translate his stupid tablet so he can take over the world or something.” 

“Which is why we need to get it so that we can slam the gates of hell forever with Crowley inside.” Dean explained the entire situation to Mrs. Tran.

“So things like that,” Sam pointed over to the kitchen, “don’t ever happen again.”

Mrs. Tran fell silent for a moment as she silently sorted through the overwhelming information you had given her. She looked over at her son, the slightest smile spread at the ends of her lips as she raised her brow. “Prophet of the Lord, huh? It does have a nice ring to it.” She said. This wasn’t exactly the path she thought her son would follow, but hey. The Lord works in mysterious ways. She decided she wanted to be apart of the adventure as well, you and the boys didn’t realize that just yet. “I’ll get packed.”

You pushed yourself up to your feet when Mrs. Tran went on her way to her bedroom to gather what she would need. You looked over at the boys, knowing you had a few things of your own that still needed sorting out. “We’re gonna need a safe house since Crowley’s been to the cabin, so—”

“Safe house?” Mrs. Tran cut off Dean. “I thought we were going to get the tablet.”

“Uh, we are.” Dean said, nodding his head to the four of you. “You’re taking a trip to a demon-free zone.”

Mrs. Tran scoffed at the lousy plan, “And risk Kevin letting Kevin fall into the hands of this Crowley again? I don’t think so.”

“Mrs. Tran, all due respect, Dean’s right. Crowley—he’s not just a killer. He trades in torment. And if he can find a way to separate your soul from you, he’ll take that soul to hell and roast it till there’s left but black smoke.” You said, painting a grim picture for the woman. “And that’s just what he’d do to your soul. Trust me, I know what bastard is capable of if. Look, it’s best if you let us handle it.”

“I understand.” Mrs. Tran muttered. “But it’s not my soul I’m worried about. It’s my son’s.”

If there was one thing in this world that was possibly the one thing Dean Winchester couldn’t beat, it would be a mother’s willingness to protect her child. Mrs. Tran crossed her arms over her chest and gave the look, the kind that you knew all too well. Dean had a sense he was being backed into a corner. “Kevin, you want to back us up here? Came all the way down here to pull her out of the fire. Now she wants to jump right back in.”

Mrs. Tran moved her stern expression over to her son. She raised her brow, as if she was silently waiting for him to try and go up against her. He knew it would be a losing battle he wasn’t going to try in even attempting at. "Like I can tell her what to do?”

You shrugged your shoulders when Dean looked at you and his brother to figure if you wanted to jump in on this one. You didn’t really have a problem with her tagging along. Dean turned his direction over to the woman and looked her up and down. Despite her small frame, the woman packed an attitude. He chuckled to himself and laid down a few ground rules for her. “All right. Coming with us has conditions—uh, hex bags to stay off the bad guys’ radar and, uh, you’re gonna have to get inked up.”

“Do what, now?” Kevin spoke up, seeming alarmed at what he just heard.

“Yeah, uh,” Sam pulled down the collar of his undershirt and flannel button up to reveal the anti-possession tattoo the three of you had been sporting for the past several years. Kevin suddenly looked a little pale. “You, too, shortstop. Keeps the demons out.”

“Fine.” Mrs. Tran agreed. Dean seemed a little bit amused at her willingness, presuming it was all just an act to make herself be down with the rules. However the woman might look like a suburban mother, but behind her modestly styled hair and neat clothing laid a secret piece of ink you weren’t expecting. “What, like it’s my first tattoo?”

Mrs. Tran decided to show all of you she was much more interesting than you once thought. You raised your brow high as it could go when you saw her reveal where she kept it all these years, in a spot nobody would ever see. Except in intimate moments, or with her pants down her ankles. Kevin seemed more than just mortified, Dean was smirking to himself, seeming not to have given her much credit as she deserved. And the respect only grew more when it came to getting the tattoos after Mrs. Tran was packed up.

Kevin was in absolute pain while the tattoo artist worked on getting the symbol inked onto the kid’s wrist. He tried his hardest to take the pain, but he sat there, silently groaning in pain, his face covered in a thin layer of sweat. Mrs. Tran sat beside him, appearing calm, not seeming the least bit fazed. She looked over at her son to see how he was doing, and when she noticed he was in pain, she outstretched her hand for him to take, helping him. You shook your head as you smiled at the sight, finding it slightly more amusing than you should have.

“You smell it, guys?” Dean’s question made you break your concentration away from the sight and to him, making you wondering what he was talking about.

“Burning flesh?” Sam guessed.

“Revenge.” Dean said. “So close.” 

“I’ll agree to that, once we get the tablet in our hands.” You muttered. You crossed your arms over your chest as Kevin transitioned his noises to now quiet whimpers. “Hey, Sammy, how’d you do that reverse-exorcism thing? You guys learn some new stuff while I was gone, too?“

“No. Just said the verse backwards.” Sam said.

You nodded your head slowly as you furrowed your brow slightly, wondering why all of you didn’t think to do that before. It sure would have saved on a lot of trouble with those pesky demons. Soon enough, if things went well, maybe you and the boys would never have to worry about them ever again.

\+ + +

The five of you made it to Wyoming where Kevin had stashed the tablet after a near full day’s drive of being cramped in the backseat with two other people. You offered to stay behind and keep an eye out on the Tran family while the boys took a sweep around the bus station to see if you had any company that followed you on the way here. It took a few minutes for the brothers to spot anything out of the ordinary. You kept yourself busy by keeping an eye out on the fellow bystanders who wandered out to their buses and others greet others who had been waiting for them. When the boys came back, the three of you got to your feet, wondering the verdict.

“So, place is clean,” Sam said. “far as I can tell.”

Kevin took it as his cue to hand over the key to the locker he had hid the tablet in over to Dean. “All right. Positive thoughts.” Dean said. All of you huddled around the lockers and watched as the older Winchester shoved the key into the lock, opening up the compartment that possibly held the most important thing of your entire life. When you peeked inside, you were a little bit surprised at what you saw. Dean pulled out a pale blue bag, with what looked like colorful stuffed animals that would entertain a baby. “You hid the word of God in a diaper bag?”

“No.” Kevin said.

Your face fell from what you heard. Dean didn’t waste a second in scavenging through the bag, wondering if he could find that tablet somewhere stuffed in her behind all the diapers and baby wipes. But all he saw was nothing useful to him. Sam grew a tight smile, as if he knew this was a stupid idea. Dean rolled his eyes, grumbling for his brother to shut up. Dean shoved the diaper bag into the locker and roughly slammed the metal door shut.

You and the boys decided to talk to security to see if there was any reported stolen items while Kevin had been gone. He swore up and down this was the last place he stored it. Which meant that someone got their grubby hands on it, human or demon. It seemed this was quite the norm for a place like this.

“Been nothing but trouble with these lockers. Got broke into damn near every day for a while.” The security officer explained. “Could never figure out who it was till yesterday.” 

“Oh, so you know who did it?” You asked him, seeming rather surprised.

“Sure. Was Clem Smedley, a guy who worked the desk before me.” He said.

“Please tell me he’s down in country right now.” Dean was pushing his luck today to find a decent answer, and he got just that from what the officer said next.

“Yep,” The officer answered. “waiting for arraignment.”

\+ + +

“Should have known they’d plant a LoJack in one of them bags.” Clem Smedley was what you expected a guy like him to be from someone who spent his days abusing his job position as a security office with a master key. The criminal sat across from you while Sam was to your left, Dean chose to stand, finding himself slowly walking back and forth. “Sharp guy, that Jerry. He’ll be a fine replacement for me.”

“Right. Well, in one of those lockers, there was a tablet.” Sam said, going straight to the reason why all of you were occupying the interrogation room in the location station where Clem had been held over in overnight. “Do you know where it is?”

Clem chuckled at the man’s question, “Can I even acknowledge that without my lawyer here?”

“Uh, look,” You spoke up. You leaned forward slightly as you gave the man a smile. “I’m sure we could work out a little something-something with the locals if you just cooperate.”

“What kind of something-something?” Clem wondered.

You folded your hands together as you tried your hardest not to smack him right across the face. You shrugged your shoulders, pretending like you were up for suggestions here. "Here’s what I’m thinking—full immunity from all charges, both past, present and future.”

"You would like that, wouldn’t you?” You muttered underneath your breath, moving your gaze away from the man for just a moment. You rolled your eyes as Sam rubbed his eyes, knowing this was going to be harder than he thought before. “Look, I’m sure—Hey, Dean! Dean.”

You suddenly found yourself giving Clem your full attention when you saw Dean lose it. He was in some other trance right now. He ignored your warnings for him to back off when he took off his tie and used to to wrap it around Clem’s throat. He shoved the man against the wall and took it one step farther by taking the demon knife out from his pocket and pressed the blade against his skin. Dean didn’t seem to figure out what he was doing, it was like he was lost in a trance, in another world that he barely escaped from but couldn’t shake off. 

“You feel that?” Dean questioned the man in a low, dark tone. You slowly pushed yourself up to your feet and walked over to him when Clem coughed up the location where he pawned off the tablet. Dean was silent for a moment as his lips stretched into a smirk. “You know what, mutt? I believe you.”

"Dean,” You quietly spoke the man’s name as you slowly wrapped your hands around his wrist holding the demon knife. It seemed your touch broke him out of his trance, pulling him back into reality. You lowered the weapon as he unwrapped the tie around Clem’s neck. You let out a sigh and yanked on his wrist, dragging him out of the interrogation room. “Come on.”

The three of you managed to escape the police station before Clem could gather back his nerve and tell the real cops what he just went under. You and the boys got the location of where the tablet was in circumstances you didn’t expect to escalate to. While getting the tablet was one of your concerns, you found yourself not caring so much about it at the moment. You kept thinking about Dean and how he acted not only in the interrogation room, but just a few days ago. Purgatory had done something to him, but you knew he would never admit the details to you.

\+ + +

It wasn’t too hard to find the location of the pawn shop Dean threatened out of Clem to find out where he sold off the tablet he wrongfully stole, along with whatever else he managed to grab from those lockers. The shop was nestled into a row of others in town not too far from where the bus station was located. Dean parked the Impala against the sidewalk and right behind a fancy looking sports car that was probably worth way more than the house you hadn’t been to in years now that you thought about it. Personally, you were more of a fan to older model cars, but you had to admit the cherry red Ferrari was a sight to see. Especially in a small town like this one in Wyoming when one would expect to see them more in the Hollywood hills.

You let out a low whistle in appreciation at the model as Kevin found himself pulled into a trance at the sight of the car. He took a few steps forward to take a closer inspection out of it, Mrs. Tran called out to her son, pulling him back into reality as she nodded her head to the pawn shop. A car like this was like a beautiful woman; you could look all you want, but if you dare so touch it, there would be consequences. All of you headed into the pawn shop to see a man behind the counter. He was playing on his phone with his feet up on the counter, obviously hard at work.

“Hello, sir. Agents Neil, Sixx and Hill. FBI.” Sam introduced the three of you as he pulled out his fake badge to show the kid behind the counter. “We’re looking for a tablet.”

“About, uh, yea big,” Dean gestured with his hands the rough size of the tablet to give the kid some idea of what all of you were looking for. “Got some hieroglyphic crap on it.”

“Sold to you by a thief named Clem.” Sam added. “Ring a bell?”

The kid shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Nope.”

You rolled your eyes from his nonchalant behavior and how quick he was to answer you. It was obvious he didn’t want to think too much about giving all of you some information, thinking he could attempt and cover his ass. But Dean wasn’t in the mood. “Hey, Lyle, I’m had a really, really bad day today, so I’m not in the mood to dilly dally.” Dean said. He leaned forward and pressed his hand against the glass to appear somewhat threatening. “If you want to do this the rough way, I am happy to oblige.”

“Sure. We can do it that way, if you want to get famous.” The kid said. You furrowed your brow from what he meant. When he looked over his shoulder and nodded his head to the two security cameras around the store, you knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“That your car outside?” Mrs. Tran spoke up, asking the kid a simple question.

“What’s it to you, mail-order?” The kid’s response made your blood boil in anger.

“Hey, scumbag!” You slapped your palm against the glass counter, directing his attention over to you. “A few security cameras don’t scare me. I’ll break right them right after I break your jaw and arms. I mean, it would be kinda hard to tell the cops a girl beat your sexist and racist ass with your mouth wired shut.”

"I got it.” Mrs. Tran said, stopping you from fulfilling your promise. She walked up to the counter, showing you and the boys that not every situation required threats to get what you wanted. Sometimes brains won in this kind of situation. “I noticed you’re driving with expired tags, maybe because you just acquired it in a trade, and I’m guessing that means you haven’t registered it yet, which means you haven’t paid the tax. Is that correct?”

The kid kicked his feet off the table and pushed himself up to a standing position. You noticed he seemed surprised at what she said, even a little bit afraid about how spot on she was. “None of your business.”

“Kevin,” Mrs. Tran looked over her shoulder and asked her son a question. “Average blue book on a 2010 Ferrari F430 Spider?”

“Two hundred and seventeen thousand dollars.” Kevin answered.

“And the five percent Wyoming tax?” She asked.

“Ten thousand and eight hundred fifty.” Sam somehow made the calculation in his hand in the matter of seconds, answering the woman before her son could. You found yourself wincing at the intimidating amount of numbers flying around here, making you feel sorry for the reality the poor sucker was about to face if any of this spilled to the real FBI.

“Ten thousand dollars. Something tells me you’re the type of person who might balk at a tax bill that big.” Mrs. Tran said, the ends of her lips curling into a smirk.

“W-What is this,” The kid asked. “An FBI audit?”

“No. But my brother, who happens to work for the Wyoming tax assessor’s office could arrange that if he thought something untoward was happening here.” Mrs. Tran said. She continued on speaking, not missing a beat to drag out the information from the kid from the question she asked him. “So what’s it going to be—the tablet or that piece of euro trash crap you call a car?”

You crossed your arms over your chest when the kid fell awfully silent. You raised your brow as he contemplated the choices he had that you given him, and what he could do to get out of them for the spite of it. But you could tell from the look on his face that he knew he was cornered with no way out.

“You heard the woman.” You said. “Cough up the location, punk.”

The kid unwillingly did so to save his ass from paying a fine you knew he couldn’t pay. You left the pawn shop with a friendly smile after you snatched the receipt out of his hands. Maybe having Mrs. Tran around wouldn’t be so bad, after all. She didn’t cower at the sight of that kid being a jerk to her, and she sure was smart enough to think quick on her toes. Not to mention, she saved you and the boys from getting yourselves in trouble from doing things the illegal way. All of you piled back into the Impala and headed to the location written on the receipt. You were getting a little bit more hopeful with the idea that you were getting closer to the tablet. And one step closer to closing the gates of hell forever.

\+ + +

Motel room number one-twenty six. You stood on the parking lot with your arms crossed over your chest as you waited while Sam knocked on the front door of the room where the tablet was supposed to be located. You looked around the place to see it was fairly quiet for the afternoon, there was nobody around except for the five of you. Sam waited for a moment to see if he could hear any movement in the room as your attention lingered over to the window to see if you could spot a pair of eyes peeking out the curtain to see who was disturbing them. But all remained still and silent.

“Sure this is the right place?” Sam asked, seeming a bit skeptical at location the kid gave you.

“It’s what the pawn slip says.” You told him.

Sam still wasn’t too sure about that being true, so he decided to see for himself what was inside the motel room. He slipped his hand inside his pocket to pull out his lock pick to grant all of you access inside. However before he could even get it out of his jacket pocket, you heard an unfamiliar voice speak from behind, grabbing your attention. “Kevin?”

You turned around in your spot to see an older gentleman wearing an ensemble that looked a little out of place for this kind of scenery. You narrowed your eyes on him when you noticed his pinstripe gray suit was paired with a matching colored top hat and wooden cane he used to talk with. You dropped your arms to your hips, placing them where you kept the demon knife tucked away, just in case if you might need it use it on him. The boys seemed just as cautious at the sight of a stranger showing up out of nowhere.

“Who wants to know?” Dean asked, stepping down from the sidewalk and to the parking lot.

“Oh, relax, Dean. I’m not going to steal your prophet.” The stranger reassured the man. But you had your doubts on that. He turned his attention away from the older Winchester and the woman standing next to Kevin. The man’s lips stretched into a smile at the sight of her. “Ah. And you must be Kevin’s mother. Beau. And it is my absolute pleasure.”

“God,” You rolled your eyes in annoyance when you saw Beau introduced himself to Mrs. Tran in the most over the top way possible. He reached out to lift up her hand to give the top of her hand a light kiss. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“And Kevin, imagine my luck. Here I was, working so hard to look for you that I never stopped to think you might be looking for me.” Beau said. You narrowed your eyes when you saw him slip a hand inside his suit pocket, making you fear for the worst. You found yourself reaching for the demon knife out of habit. You asked him what it was. He pulled out what appeared to be a crisp white invitation with the prophet’s name written on it. “An invitation, dear lady, to an exclusive auction.”

“Let me guess,” Dean said. “Where you’ll be selling the tablet?”

“Well, when we acquire an item as hot as the word of God, it’s smart to unload it as fast a possible.” Beau explained himself to you and the boys’ judging glares “And we are in such desperate need of a headliner for tonight’s gala.”

“Well, I hope you have four extra tickets to your little eBay party, ‘cause the prophet’s with us.” Dean said, stopping the stranger from taking Kevin anywhere.

“Oh if you’re worried about the safety of your prophet, rest assured we have a strict ‘no casting, no cursing, no supernaturally flicking the three of you against the wall for the fun of it.’ policy” Beau reassured you and the boys.

“Is that right?” Sam asked. “How’d you manage that?”

“Well, I am the right hand of a God, after all—Plutus, specifically.” Beau said, his lips stretching into a smirk as he bragged about his title to the five of you humans.

“Is that even a planet anymore?” Dean let out a scoff, thinking it was something much different from the sound of a name.

“It’s the god of greed.” Beau corrected the man. It seemed from the expression on his face he wasn’t the least bit amused. “And my liege has warned these premises against hell, heaven and beyond—quite necessary with some of the players we see. And incidentally, quite possibly the safest place your precious prophet could be. Mm. Well, since time is of the essence, perhaps I’ll just go ahead and add a plus-four to the prophet’s invitation. Copacetic?”

Beau flung the invitation straight into the air, letting his trick distract all of you long enough for him to vanish into sight before the envelope fell to the ground. You quickly looked up when you noticed that he was gone. He was a smooth talker, you’d give him that. “Well, thank you, Mr. Peanut!” Dean yelled out in frustration. You dropped your hands to your side and let out a sigh. “All right. What do we have to bid?”

“Let me brush off the other word of God I’ve got in the trunk.” You said, pointing a finger over your shoulder. “Along with the other precious artifacts we don’t have.”

“We can’t just show up there empty-handed.” Dean said, his tone of voice showing you he wasn’t in the mood for your sarcasm right now.

“Dean, all we have to our names ia few hacked gold cards.” Sam said, bursting his brother’s idea of trying to go up against a few heavy hitters that were bound to have some items that were well worth the trade for the tablet.

“All right. Well, then, we’re gonna have to get creative.” Dean suggested. You thought to yourself for a moment about what could possibly be worth bidding. You thought about possibly bidding off the demon knife, as it was a one of a kind piece. However Sam had a suggestion for an item that was meaningful to all of you. The very thing that had been through a lot of things in her decades of existence. You noticed that he was staring at the Impala, prompting you to realize that he was about to suggest about auctioning the car. Dean promptly shook his head as he went straight over to Baby, defending her. “Nope. Mnh-mnh. Say it and I will kill you, your children and your grandchildren.”

"Okay, okay. Before you two idiots murder each other, I got an idea. Don’t these auctions display the items to the bidders beforehand, right?” You wondered, Dean nodded his head. “So all we got to do is get Kevin close enough to memorize the spell.”

“What do you think, Brainiac?” Dean asked the kid. “Think you can swing it?”

“Of course he can swing it.” Mrs. Tran said with confidence. “If the bumper stickers on my previa mean anything.”

The plan was worth a shot to try, as it was really the only one you had anymore at this point. Dean turned his attention over to the Impala as he rubbed his hand across the hood, as if he was trying to comfort the emotions of an inanimate object. “They didn’t mean it, Baby.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder if you love that car more than me.” You said. Dean looked over at you to see that you were standing right next to him with an arched brow, waiting for him to say that you were being crazy. However Dean remained silent for a moment, prompting you to let out a sigh. “You know what—Don’t answer that. Let’s just go.”

\+ + +

You weren’t sure what you were expecting the location of the supernatural bidding of the tablet would be held. Maybe something fancy, maybe even a decent space where you didn’t have to worry about what was crawling around the place or what kind of mold was growing between the cracks of the stones. Of course it had to be just that, downtown in an abandoned warehouse from the looks of it. Nothing could ever be nice and clean. You stepped into the warehouse after a man dressed in a black suit opened up the door for you.

It was then you discovered the metal detector all of you needed to step through in order to be granted access to the auction. You knew if you wanted to be apart of this you needed to come here without a single weapon on you. Not that you were exactly pleased with the idea. You were a little more concerned about setting it off with the metal pieces in your body. You still had the faint scar from the surgery you had to put your arm back together. All though Cas put you back together into one piece, you weren’t sure if he got out everything. There was one way to find out. You stepped through the metal detector after Sam, waiting to hear the thing go off. But when you stepped out the other side, it beeped once, making you let out a sigh of relief.

Dean wasn’t lucky as you were. When the older Winchester stepped into the detector, he went with a slow and cautious step, as if doing so would help his case. But as he stepped out to the other side, the alarm went off, making you and the others realize he made the dumb decision of coming here with some extra accessories that weren’t allowed. You let out a sigh of frustration as you shot him annoyed glare. Dean smiled slightly as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Now, now, Dean.” Beau stepped forward to greet the older Winchester and remind him of the rules that applied to all of you as well. “The system only works when everyone participates.”

Dean wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of playing along with the rules of this place. Being stuck in a place crawling with monsters and no weapon to defend himself felt wrong. But if he wanted to stick around, he would have to give everything up. He unwillingly placed his pistol into the bin with other confiscated weapons and took out the demon knife from his jacket pocket. He held it for a moment, knowing out of all of the weapons you owned, this was the most powerful one. The guard grew impatient and reached out a hand to grab it from the man. Dean drew it back to give the man a warning that it was his, and his to keep.

“I’ll be back for this.” Dean told the man. And with those words, he set the knife into the bin with the rest of the weapons where it would remain until the end of the auction.

All of you headed into the auction now that you were cleared to do so. You looked around the place to see it was filled with all sorts of artifacts and items from mythology. People of all kinds gawked at the items at what soon would be up for grabs. You scanned the people with a bit of curiosity, wondering what kind of creatures you were surrounded with. Most of the time you were trying to kill them, it was sort of a nicer pace to be able to be in a place where they were fighting against each other for whatever item they were willing to get their greedy hands on. All you knew was that the tablet was yours. No matter how much it cost, you needed to get it back.

“How the hell are we supposed to know who’s who?” Dean quietly asked, looking around the room himself to see all sorts of people that appeared to be harmless. But there was more than meets the eye with these kind of folks.

“It’s pretty simple, Dean.” You said. “They’re all monsters.”

You focused less on the people you were surrounded with and now trying to find the tablet. You walked around the place and mindlessly spotted all sorts of different objects you would have loved to examine if the situation was different. Now you were focused on trying to find the tablet before time ran out. Dean was the one who spotted it. You saw the tablet in a glass display for anyone to see. However someone was one step ahead of you. You could feel your fist clench in anger when you noticed a black piece of board was covering each side of the tablet, making it near impossible for Kevin to read. There went your brilliant plan.

“I guess we’re not as original as we thought.” Kevin muttered in a defeated tone.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Sam said. “We just got to come up with a plan ‘b.’”

“And what, pray tell, could possibly have been plan ‘a’?” As if you thought this moment couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, it could have. You flinched at the familiar accent ring into your ears and right behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see it was the king of hell himself, Crowley. Your lips stretched into a frown at the sight of him alone. “Bring the prophet to the most dangerous place on earth, memorize the tablet and then va-moose?”

“Crowley.” You greeted the demon, speaking his name as if it was poison on your tongue. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

The demon barely made an effort to acknowledge your presence before turning his attention over to the person he most wanted to see. “Kevin. What a pleasure to see you. Sorry about your little playdate. Her name…Well, if you’re gonna make an omelet, sometimes you have to break some spines.” Crowley said, excusing his previous behavior with a shrug of the shoulder. You scoffed at how easy it was for someone like him to wash the blood off his hands after killing an innocent person. But you didn’t expect much out of something like him. Crowley turned his attention to Mrs. Tran, as she was a face he had never got to formally meet before. “And who is this lovely young thing? Must be your sister.”

Mrs. Tran might have been a tiny woman for her height, but she sure knew how to pack a punch. You didn’t realize what she had done until you saw Crowley’s head turn into an unpleasant angle and he let out what sounded to be a bit of a groan. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you saw him tend to his bloody lip the woman had given the king of hell. “Stay away from my son.” She warned him.

“Charming. Defiling he corpse has just made number one of my to-do list.” Crowley said. You narrowed your eyes on the demon at his subtle threat while Dean took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to give Crowley more than just a punch. But before he could do such a thing, his brother held him back. “Don’t mind a little love tap, but anything more, and our mookie pals here might just throw you out, and that would be a shame.”

“He’s right, Dean.” Sam unwillingly agreed with the demon. “It’s not worth it.”

“Listen to Moose, Squirrel.” Crowley said. You rolled your eyes from his remark alone as your attention was pulled away from him and to the front door when you heard it open and close. You noticed an older looking man wearing what seemed to be a white tracksuit passed you by. “Ah. Here comes our host.”

“That’s Plutus?” Dean asked, watching the man pass by all of you to take his spot at the front of the room. “What is he, God of the candy aisle?”

You had to admit he wasn’t what you were expecting to be when you heard he was the god of greed. You were thinking he’d be a little bit more flashy in flaunting his wealth and greed. Guess you were wrong on that one. Beau followed behind the man. “Gentlemen,” He reminded the five of you. “The auction is starting.”

“Good luck with the bidding.” Crowley said.

You forced yourself to give him a sarcastic smile before turning on your heels to walk over to the auction before things got started. When you saw the demon was far enough away from you, you looked over at Mrs. Tran and gave her a genuine smile at what she managed to do.

“Nice right hook.” You whispered.

Mrs. Tran seemed proud of herself at the compliment you gave her. The both of you headed off with Sam and Kevin to find a spot for all of you to take. You managed to find an empty row of chairs for all of you to take. However you noticed that Dean wasn’t anywhere near all of you. You leaned over slightly while you stood over the chair you claimed as your own next to Sam, wondering where his brother was. You looked through the thinning crowd of people and spotted him talking to some kid wearing a red and white striped uniform. You furrowed your brow slightly at who he was talking to, wondering who it was.

The conversation seemed to drift to an end a moment later. You watched as the kid walked over to where the rest of the crowd to take a seat in the very back, but Dean remained where he was. You let out a sigh when you saw him lose himself into focusing on a spot in the room. The same look you had seen before in the interrogation room fell over his face, making you wonder if he was thinking about purgatory again.

\+ + +

Dean found himself doing it again. He was drifting off into space and falling into the memories of the time he spent in purgatory, the haunting and bloody place he still couldn’t shake off. Most of his memories about the place were remembering the battle he had to fight with all those nasty monsters for a chance to see another day at finding the escape Benny promised him. But it was talking to an angel named Samandriel and the topic about their common friend that triggered him into the memory of Cas. The one who he left behind in purgatory, who decided it was too much of a risk for Dean to have to face because of what he was.

Cas was a lot of things. And much as he did some wrong the year before, he made up for his behavior, tackling his little brother’s devil on his shoulder and patching you up, sending you off to be safe for awhile. Cas did so much for all of you. And no matter what, the angel got the short end of the stick, dealing with the consequences of a Winchester’s actions.

“Dean. Hey,” The older Winchester was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt someone place their hand lightly on his shoulder, as if they were trying not to scare him. He looked away from the spot on the wall he’d been staring at and to your smiling face. He noticed that your expression was slightly concerned from how he was acting again. But you didn’t speak a word about it to him. "The auction’s about to start. Come on.“

Beau tapped his walking cane against the small stage he was standing on top of, gathering the attention of everyone in the room as the remaining bystanders went to take their seats. Plutus didn’t seem to care much for the events of today, choosing to recline in a leather love seat and catch up on some light reading in the newspaper he pulled out of thin air. “Ladies, gentlemen, and…other,” Beau greeted his guests today’s auction, monitoring an arm to a thing in the near front of the stage he hadn’t seen in quite a while. “Welcome to this once-in-a-lifetime event.”

You and Dean headed to the row of seats his brother and the Tran family had claimed for their own. Sam sat in the middle of the seats he saved for the two of you, but in true brotherly fashion of things, Dean ushered a hand for the younger man to slide down one, but Sam ushered for his brother to take the spot next to Mrs. Tran. You rolled your eyes, pushing the older man slightly as you took your seat on the end of the row. As you got comfortable much as you possibly could in the metal fold out chairs, you heard hushed conversation going on from behind you, making you turn around to see who was talking.

When you noticed it was Crowley and the angel that Dean had been speaking to, you brought your index finger to your lips, shushing for the both of them to be quiet. The demon responded with eye roll. You faced forward in your seat and listened to the first item up for auction. “The first name in magical and alchemist esoterica. Our prices may be high, but our quality is unmatched, and we stand by our products.” You shoved your hand into your pocket and pulled out every ounce of money you could help bid along with credit cards that might help swoon over the god of greed.

“Don’t know why you’re so keen on that hunk of dirt. So it tells you how to blast back a few demons? I’ll just make more.” Crowley spoke up in a hushed voice in attempt not to raise any sort of unwanted attention. The demon took a seat behind you and watched as all of you scurried to cough up the right amount for a price of an object he knew all of you could never afford. His focus might have been straight forward on the auction, but you could hear from the tone of his voice alone the smirk on his lips you’d do anything to smack off. "Can’t get rid of all of my black-eyed boys, Samantha.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Sam mumbled, not falling for the demon’s weak attempt at trying to scare him. The younger Winchester faced forward again after looking over his shoulder to give the king of hell a brief acknowledge the demon. He turned his attention over to his brother after he handed over all of the money you and him had for the man to count up. “All right. So, how much we got for plan ‘b’?”

“Uh, well, we got our hacked credit cards, two thousand dollars, and a,” Dean handed back over the small pile of cash to his little brother along with the credit cards that were nearly maxed out. Along with the special ticket item Mrs. Tran reassured would be a real deal breaker. “Uh, Costco membership.”

“Our first item, the amulet of Hesperus. Let’s start the bidding with, um, three tons of dwarven gold?” Beau struck up a bargaining trade that caught you off guard. You blinked at what you just heard, wondering if you heard was just some joke he said to get a cheap laugh from the audience. But people were actually raising their hands, offering more gold for this necklace. “Ah. This lady. I have three. Do I have, uh, four? Four, gentlemen here.”

You leaned back in your seat as the bidding went on for quite some time, the price for the necklace went up for five tons of gold to some lady a few rows up from you. You let out a quiet sigh as you looked over at Dean, the both of you realizing this was going to a bit trickier than you thought it was going to be. You were getting that tablet, one way or another. Even if you had to steal it and smuggle it out of here. And that was where plan “C” came into the works.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.” Dean excused himself, pushing himself up to his feet and heading for the other part of the building to see if he could find where the tablet was being held and what sort of obstacles all of you would be up against.

It was moments like this, when you were sitting in the middle of an auction watching creatures of all kinds bid for things with rare objects, that made you wonder what turn in life ended you up here. You let out a sigh and rubbed your eyes with your hands. Sometimes there was no point of asking those kind of questions anymore. Because it could only get stranger from here. You put your own personal thoughts to the side and watched as Beau continued on with the bidding, going for a piece that made your brow raise in surprise at the sight of it.

“Our next item is up for bid, the hammer of Thor, mjolnir.”

An old man in the front row of the audience was quick to go for the hammer with an item that wasn’t gold, but something that was apparently precious enough to bid. “A finger bone from the frost giant Ymir.” Beau seemed intrigued at the possible trade, however Plutus shook his head, deciding he needed something more. The old man was ready to offer up a bloody paper bag with the contents that were a bit unsettling. “Uh…the bone, and the 5/8ths of the virgin.” 

“What the hell?” You muttered underneath your breath. You looked over at Sam, who shared the same rather disturbed expression from what he saw unfold right in front of him. You weren’t sure you wanted to know where someone got parts of a virgin. The morbid curiosity vanished from your mind when you heard the doors Dean slipped out from a few minutes ago open up and slowly close. A second later you saw him come into view, demanding you and his brother to slide down a seat, making you stuck in the middle between them. “So, how’d it go?”

“Plan ‘C’ tanked.” Dean informed you. You let out a sigh in frustration from the options you were finding yourself slowly finding yourself having. Stealing it wasn’t possible, and you sure didn’t have anything that was good enough to trade for the word of god.

“Maybe you should try plan ‘d’ for dumbass.” Crowley said. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as the brothers looked over their shoulder when the demon made an unwanted remark. Dean gave the king of hell a dirty glare before turning his attention back to the auction.

“Our next lot, the word of God, capital ‘G’—very old, very rare.” Beau placed up the tablet all of you were ready to bid against with your wad of cash and credit cards. If you couldn’t bribe them with that, you’d just have to get down and dirty, offering up a few things that might be better than a few tons of gold or some bloody parts of a virgin. However before you could offer up a price, someone beat you to it.

“Three billion dollars.” Crowley pushed himself up to his feet, putting out a cash offering none of you could ever beat if you even dare so tired. He slipped his hands into his coat pocket and grew an arrogant smirk as you and the boys found yourself gawking at the amount he threw out there like it was nothing to him.

“Whoa.” The boys muttered in sync together.

"The ‘Mona Lisa.’” It seemed that someone else was in the market for the word of God. You turned around farther in your chair to see Samandriel was up on his feet, offering a piece of art by Leonardo Da Vinci himself. You had a feeling things were about to get interesting.

“The real ‘Mona Lisa,’ where she’s topless.” Crowley persuaded the god with another deal. 

Samandriel wasn’t the least bit afraid to offer up something better, “Vatican city.”

“Alaska.” Crowley said, proposing an entire state to the god of greed.

“Palin and a bridge to nowhere?” Beau pretended to think about the offer before rejecting it. “No, thanks.”

“All right.” Crowley decided to get serious. “The moon.”

“You’re bidding the moon?” You had to repeat what you heard the demon just say in order to figure out if he was being serious here. Or if he was just bluffing to win over the god to get the tablet. “Nobody owns the freaking moon.”

“On the contrary. I claimed it for hell.” Crowley corrected you. Your face fell as you stared at him with a look of disbelief at what you were hearing. “Think a man named Buzz gets to go into space without making a deal?”

“Ah. I’m sorry, gentlemen. It seems that our reserve price has not been met. So in order to stimulate the bidding, we’re going to add in item to this lot.” Beau decided to spice things up to get the crowd more eager to bid everything they had. And for all of you to become desperate enough to do whatever you had to stop something terrible from happening. “Kevin Tran, prophet of the Lord.”

You quickly turned your head to the side when you heard the young man’s name called out, but when you did so, Kevin vanished from your sight. Mrs. Tran let out a gasp of horror at where her poor son went. You noticed that he was now up on the stage, chained up, waiting like a prisoner for someone to win him. You jumped out of your seat in attempt to get up there and kick some ass, but you found yourself only making it a few steps before someone roughly grabbed ahold of you by your arm, yanking you back down to your seat. You gritted your teeth in anger.

“Mr. Tran is the only person on earth who can read this tablet, which makes them a perfect matching set.” Beau sweetened the deal for whoever was greedy enough to cough up the price Plutus would want. Crowley couldn’t himself himself when he made the remark of this deal being out of your league. You had a feeling whatever he had wasn’t good enough for the god, either. At least, you were hoping. “So, do I hear a bid of—”

“No, stop!” Mrs. Tran cried out. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I have a 401(k.), my house.”

Plutus let out a chuckle from the material possessions only a human could find value in. Shaking his head, he continued reading the paper, wondering when she was going to get serious about the bid and offer up something of use to him. “Good effort, Ms. Tran,” Beau said. “but I’m afraid this is a little out of your price range.”

Mrs Tran wasn’t about to give up just yet. She thought long and hard about what sort of objects creatures like this didn’t have, and what they would do to get their hands on it. The woman knew what it was, and it was the last card she could play to get her son back. “My soul.” She offered. Kevin was against what his mother was about to do, but she would do anything to protect her only child. “I bid my soul!” 

“Are you sure?” Dean asked the woman. “That’s a big move.”

“Interesting.” Plutus said. You noticed the man had taken his gaze away from the paper and to Mrs. Tran, the offer was enough to grab his attention. You felt your stomach tighten from the smirk that was starting to settle on his lips. He was actually considering the trade.

“If it’s souls you’re after, I can give you a million.” Crowley said, doing anything he could to win over the god’s greedy persuasion so he could have the prophet and the tablet for his own.

“Hey, flyboy,” Dean leaned over in his seat and grabbed the angel’s attention when he remained awfully silent as the bidding carried on. “Are you gonna get in on this?”

“We guard the souls in heaven.” Samandriel said. “We don’t horse-trade them.”

“An angel with a set of morals.” You grumbled. “Great.”

“So we have a deal.” Crowley presumed.

“It’s not about the quantity, chief. It’s about the sacrifice. This little lady’s soul is the most valuable thing she has. It’s everything.” Plutus told the demon. He dropped the newspaper to the table in front of him and leaned forward in his seat, the man’s brow raised as he asked the king of Hell one very important question that could make or break everything Mrs. Tran was giving up for the sake of her child. “Are you willing to offer everything, Mr. Crowley?”

You and the boys looked over at the demon, waiting to hear what he had to offer that would beat Mrs. Tran’s offer. He was backed into a corner with little options left. “Fine. You win.” The demon might have admitted defeat, but he was far from giving up. “I bid…my own soul!”

Putus thought the offer was anything other than comical. He leaned back in his seat and let out a throaty chuckle at the compromise the demon tried to pull on someone like him. “Mr. Crowley, you don’t have a soul.” Plutus told the king. Crowley shrugged, thinking it was worth a shot. But it meant that he would be leaving here empty handed. “Congrats, sweetheart.”

You weren’t exactly thrilled with how things turned out, this was the complete and total opposite of how you were expecting things to go. But what choice did you have here? It was impossible to steal, along with the fact that Kevin’s life was on the line. It was Mrs. Tran’s personal decision to make the sacrifice for what she did. It was what being a parent was about. They would do anything to protect the ones they loved. Even if it meant giving up their soul for the sake of seeing them live another day.

\+ + +

The only person you had seen without a soul was Sam, and while it felt like a lifetime ago, how he acted would forever be burned in your memory as the worst you’d ever seen him. A person without their soul was the possibly the worst thing that could become of them. When Sam didn’t have a soul he wasn’t himself. He had no morals, no sense of compassion…nothing. Mrs. Tran would soon have to face that bitter reality for the rest of her life. You felt horrible for how things turned out like this. And much as you wished for things to turn out like this, it was what it was. Mrs. Tran made her decision, and she was going to have to stick with it for the sake of keeping her son safe and out of the clutches of Crowley.

“Losing my soul,” Mrs. Tran had been quietly sitting down on the chair for the past few minutes. Everyone had cleared out of the room now that the auction had ended, giving her a chance to try and come to terms with what she had agreed with. You swallowed when she asked you a question about what she was about to go through. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Probably.” Dean said, giving the woman the blunt truth.

“Will I die?” She asked in a timid voice.

“No.” Sam reassured her that it would be much worse. “You’ll just wish you were dead.”

She fell silent at the bitter future she had ahead for her. You couldn’t help yourself when you walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. When she looked up at you, you gave her a warm smile, reminding of why she was doing this in the first place. “Kevin’s gonna be safe because of what you did.“ You whispered to her, trying to make her feel even the slightest bit better about the decision she had made. "You…” You wanted to say she did the right thing. She helped all of you stop from facing a ton of obstacles, but it felt selfish to say. “You’ll be okay, too. I promise.”

You placed your hand back to your side when you heard the doors open, revealing an impatient Beau, who’s boss was waiting for the woman’s payment. “It’s time.” He announced, knowing there wasn’t much more stalling all of you could do anymore.

You let out a quiet sigh and looked down at the older woman, who hadn’t changed her overwhelmed expression from what she was about to embark on. “Are you okay, Ms. Tran?”

“Yeah.” She barely managed to get out her answer in a meek voice. You gave her a sympathetic expression when you caught tears running down her cheeks. “Can I—Can I just have a minute?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.” You reassured her. You gave her a small smile before looking straight ahead, making eye contact with a rather annoyed Beau. You gave him a dirty look and nodded for him to head into the other room. You and the boys started to make your way out as well, giving Mrs. Tran some privacy she asked for. When the woman was out of listening distance, you leaned over to the older Winchester and whispered your displeasure with this plan. “Guys, this sucks.”

“Are you kidding me, Y/N? We’re about to close the gates of hell forever.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes from his way of thinking. You wished you could be confident about it as him. But your consciousness wouldn’t let you. “If you ask me, we got off cheap.”

While you and the boys waited for Mrs. Tran to compose herself and gather the last of her nerve she would ever have. You watched as everyone picked up the items they had won in the bidding. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest as the old man who bargained for Thor’s hammer for a bit of a virgin and bone happily be reunited with the object. Your face scrunched up slightly in disturbance as he walked away. As he did so, Mrs. Tran came walking with Beau at her side. However before the transaction could be completed, there was someone else here that you needed beside the tablet. The matching set that Mrs. Tran was about to give up her soul for.

“Where’s the kid?” Dean asked in precaution.

Plutus snapped his fingers, and just like that, you saw Kevin come forward with an extra goon at his side to escort him. “What are you gonna do with her soul?” Sam questioned the god.

“Whatever I want. I might sell it, or maybe I’ll just tuck it away with my other precious objects, let them keep me warm at night.” Plutus said. You could tell from his outfit choice alone that there was something creepy about him. And the words that fell out from his mouth after what he happily admitted only clarified your suspicion. He chuckled at the sight of Mrs. Tran as she shuddered for what she had signed up for. Plutus placed his hands out in front of her and gave the woman a smile. “Whenever you’re ready, dear.”

Mrs. Tran inhaled her last breath as a woman with a soul and stepped forward. She placed her right arm out in front of her for Plutus to take into his hand. As she did so, the sleeve of her blazer she had been wearing pulled up slightly, revealing the spot where she had gotten her anti-possession tattoo. At least, that’s where it should have been. Dean spotted something out of the ordinary that made him grab the woman by the wrist, stopping her from doing anything. He pulled up the sleeve to reveal something that made you and the boys panic. Burned skin. Mrs. Tran’s anti possession tattoo was destroyed, which meant—

“Hello, boys.” You didn’t need to hear Mrs. Tran speaking in the same voice as the demon who had been trying to get exactly what you wanted. Your face dropped when you made eye contact with the same blood red ones you had seen before.

“Crowley.” You hissed out the demon’s name.

You and the boys had no chance against him, despite the fact he was possessing a small woman, it was what he could do as a demon that made him powerful. With a simple flick of a wrist, you felt yourself flying backwards into the wall, breaking the rule Beau had promised you. Being thrown against the wall was something you sure didn’t miss about hunting during your absence. Along with the king of hell and his constant shenanigans to get whatever he wanted.

\+ + +

You really should have seen this one coming from Crowley. The demon always had some sort of trick up sleeve, willing to do just about anything to get what he wanted. Even if it meant he had to possess Mrs. Tran and kill everyone here to get himself one step closer to the tablet, so be it. The king of hell got his hands dirty when it came to getting something he wanted. You slowly managed to push yourself up into a standing position as the figures around you stopped looking like there was three of them spinning around the room.

Plutus seemed rather stunned at what just happened unravel right in front of his eyes. “No. You can’t.” He muttered with anger. “My warding spells.”

“Your girl Friday showed me a few loopholes.” Crowley said. In a twist of events it seemed that Plutus’ right hand man wasn’t faithful as the god thought he would be after all these years. Beau was overtaken with greed himself when the king persuaded to help him steal the tablet. He was the one who helped him jump Mrs. Tran’s body when you left her alone to try and gather the courage she needed to go along with the deal. Only that wouldn’t be happening. “And all it cost me was an island in the south pacific. I love a bargain.”

Beau fulfilled his last part of the deal by shoving a stake into Plutus’ back when he would have least expected it. Crowley finished the god off by grabbing ahold of the stake and yanked it out of the man’s chest, only before throwing it across the room, aiming precisely for the henchman that was near Kevin, leaving the prophet defenseless. You cursed underneath your breath when you saw him going for the tablet on the table, if it got it, all of this would be over.

“Can’t do all of my tricks,” Crowley said as he slowly walked over to the prized possession he had worked hard for. “But I can do enough.”

“Get out of her!” Kevin shouted on the top of his lungs, Crowley only smirked at the demand.

“If I had a nickel for every time someone screamed that at me…” The demon thought he was so funny as he snatched the stone tablet off the table and cradled it in his arms, momentary being distracted, long enough for Dean to grab the knife from the container.

Sam made his move when he saw Crowley attempted to back out of the door and to freedom. He jumped on the woman the demon was possessing, using his weight and height against hers, tackling her to the ground. It was enough to watch as Mrs. Tran stumble back up to her feet. You and the boys surrounded the demon, giving him no chance to run or try and grab Kevin.

“Getting in touch with your feminine side, huh, Crowley?” Dean asked the demon as he raised his brow in the choice of meat suit he decided to choose.

“Something like that.” Crowley muttered. He eyed the three of you suspiciously as he held the tablet closer to his body, wondering if he could somehow sneak past all of you and grab Kevin. You waited for him to try and make a move. The demon looked down at the tablet, deciding it was better to stop while he was ahead. “One out of two ain’t bad.”

You as Crowley made a run for it out the door, Dean followed behind just seconds later, giving you and his brother responsibility in looking after Kevin. It would be over for all of you if Crowley managed to get ahold of the tablet and the prophet who could read it. Much as Kevin wanted to make sure his mother was okay, you had to hold him back when he also tried to follow behind. You shook your head as you tried to reassure him that everyone will be okay. 

“Kevin, don’t. Let Dean take care of it.” You told him, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back when you saw him come out from the corner of your eye. While the plan wasn’t one he wanted to follow, all of you had more things to worry about when you turned your head to spot Beau, who was holding a loaded gun with his finger on the trigger. And it was pointed at the back of the younger Winchester’s head. “Sam, move!”

You quickly managed to shove Sam out of the way before he could get shot, letting him get to safety behind a turned over table. Somehow by a miracle you managed to dodge off the rounds Beau had shot off. Neither you or Kevin had managed to get hit. But if anyone was going to make it out of here alive, the prophet was more important than you. Meanwhile Beau was distracted by trying to take down Sam who disappeared from his sight, you attempted to get Kevin out of here as tried to make a run for the door as you followed behind him to shield him if something were to happen. However the plan didn’t last very long.

“Don’t!” Beau shouted. You were so close to getting out of here. You rolled your eyes in frustration when you and Kevin stopped dead in your tracks, saving yourselves from getting a bullet in your head. You looked over to see that Beau had the gun pointed in your direction. “You know what’s better than one private island? Two private islands.”

Beau was blinded by the greed and the fortune he was about to invest from completing the last task Crowley had asked of him. But the man wouldn’t get anything he dare so desired. Because he would have never saw this coming Sam Winchester standing behind him, holding mjolnir in his hands, getting ready to take him down before he could harm either you or Kevin. Your lips stretched into a smirk as you watched Sam made his move.

You found yourself shielding your eyes when you saw Sam swing down the hammer that was exactly like its owner when a sudden burst of electricity lit up the room, killing Beau, leaving nothing but a blood stain on the floor and his clothes. You raised your brow in curiosity at what you just saw unfold, Kevin didn’t seem so interested as you, he bolted out of the room to find his mother. The old man who had generously lended it to Sam had stepped out from behind the table and outstretched his arm.

“Okay. Give it back.” The old man requested. You narrowed your eyes as you looked over at the younger Winchester. Neither one of you forgot about what he had to do in order to get back the hammer. “Give it back.”

“Where’d you get the 5/8ths of a virgin?” Sam questioned him.

The old man smiled slightly as he shrugged his shoulders, hoping the both of you might look the other way for the helpful deed he had done. It didn’t take much to realize the bloody parts had come from somewhere sinister. Without thinking twice about it, Sam lunged the hammer at the old man, making another burst of electricity go off, blinding you for a moment. You heard a thump hit the ground, making you slowly open your eyes again to see the old man was gone. Sam let out a breath from what he had done, you scoffed quietly at what you watched unfold.

“I gotta say, Sammy.” You said. “If Marvel is ever looking for a new Thor…”

Sam huffed out a breath from the remark. The both of you headed out the room to follow behind Kevin and the older Winchester now that one problem was out of the way, Crowley was still on the loose. You headed into the same room where the auction was once held not too long ago. Now you stumbled upon the sight of Dean nearly attempting to slit Mrs. Tran’s throat. But before he could kill the woman and the demon inside, Crowley made his escape. You watched as a fog of smoke flew around the room before disappearing into a crack underneath the door, where you presumed where Crowley stashed his meat suit for the meantime.

Dressed back into his usual attire, the demon stepped out of the room, brushing off the specs of dirt that clung to his black jacket. You felt your jaw tighten in anger from how this unfolded. No matter how much you tried, the son of a bitch managed to be one step closer. “Well, that was exciting. Good luck closing the gates to hell without this.” Crowley said. He bent down to pick up the tablet that had conveniently slid across the room and directly to where he was standing. The demon let out a chuckle at the sight of all you defeated. “Surprising what Mommy Dearest has rattling around in her head. Want to know who your real father is, Kevin? Scandalous.”

“Crowley!” You hissed the demon’s name. “I swear–”

“I know we’re not mates, Kevin, but one word of advice–run. Run far and run fast. ‘Cause the Winchesters–well, they have a habit of using people up and watching them die bloody.” Crowley said to the young man. You narrowed your eyes on the demon when he looked over at you to try and prove his point. “Isn’t that right, darling? Only a matter of time until it happens again.”

“Last I remembered it was you who tried to kill me. And failed miserably.” You said. “You could save yourself a lot of trouble Crowley and hand over the tablet. Maybe I won’t gut you for what you did.”

Crowley pretended to think about your proposition for a second before coming to an answer. “I’ll take my chances, Kitten.“ The demon waved his fingers goodbye to all of you. "Toodles.”

You watched as the king of hell waltzed right out the front door with the very thing you had tried so hard to get back in your possession. But the very thing that you felt defeated most of all was seeing Mrs. Tran sitting on the floor with her feet stretched out in front of her. Whatever Crowley did to her had done something. You just hoped she would jump back from all of this.

\+ + +

“Has she said anything?”

The brothers moved Mrs. Tran from the floor and into a chair so she would be more comfortable. But you didn’t know how she was feeling right now. The woman had been staring off into space, showing no signs of movement since Crowley left. You stood over the Tran family with your arms crossed over your chest, watching as Kevin sat with his mother, looking overwhelmed with uneasiness at the sight of the woman like this. Guilt gnawed at your stomach. You felt responsible for what happened to the woman. If you hadn’t left her alone…

“Listen, Kev, what your mom went through–it’s hell. Trust me, I know.” Dean told the young man, trying to be somehow supportive in this situation. “But she seems tough. She’ll pull it together.”

Kevin inhaled a few unsteady breaths, moving his gave from the ground and to the older Winchester. “You tried to kill her.” He said in a quiet voice. Dean swallowed slightly and opened his mouth, trying to explain how this life worked, but the kid didn’t want to hear it. “Shut up! I don’t want to hear anymore of your crappy speeches. I just want to talk to my mom alone.”

“Sure.” Sam agreed. “Five minutes.”

You and the boys headed to the doors and excused yourselves out the other room to give Kevin a few minutes alone with his mother like he wanted. Sometimes you forgot how brutal hunting could be. You did this to save people from monsters. And while Ruby’s demon killing knife had saved your asses on many occasions, you tend to forget that you weren’t just killing a demon. You were also killing the person inside who was unwillingly possessed. A person who had a life, a family who cared deeply for them. Only to end in questions about where they went, never realizing what happened. Today almost ended with an only child losing his mother

You looked over at the double doors for a moment, the same feeling of guilt piled itself up again. “Hey, Dean.” You turned your focus to the older Winchester from the question you were about to ask him. “Were you really going to, uh…”

“What? Slit soccer mom’s throat? Yeah, I was. I wish I had.” Dean’s honest answer made you give him a look of disbelief. “It was Crowley, Y/N. No matter what meat suit he’s in, I should have knifed him. I mean, yeah, it would have sucked, and I would have hated myself, but what’s one more nightmare, right?” You flinched in discomfort at how bitter the reality was. The price for revenge was at times worse than what you wanted to admit. All of you fell into silence for a moment as you let the time slip by, granting Kevin his wish of privacy. However the older Winchester found the complete stillness in sound unsettling. “It seem a little quiet in there to you?”

You nodded your head slowly. The three of you made your way to the doors to see what was going on in there that made it so eerily silent. Sam opened up the door and made his way in first, calling out the young man’s name. You feared for the worst, expecting the sight of Kevin hunched over his mother’s lifeless body. Something that would have made him speechless. But what you discovered was the worst thing that could have come from this situation. The entire room was empty, not a single soul remained in this place. Not a trace of the Tran family was around.

You felt your fists clench in anger as you began wondering if Crowley had something to do with this. Maybe he snatched the kid up when your backs were turned. But when you spotted a folded up piece of paper on the chair Kevin had been sitting in just a few minutes before, you snatched it up, calling out for the boys’ attention. You skimmed the letter as Sam asked what it said. You let out a sigh and shook your head at the stupid mistake the kid made.

“Uh, that they bolted, that we shouldn’t come looking, and since we lost the tablet, Kevin figures we don’t need him.” You told the boys.

“Yeah, but Crowley still does.” Sam said in a matter-of-fact voice as he grew furious with anger at the stupid move Kevin pulled. “What’s that kid thinking?”

You eyes fell back down to the letter as you read the rest of what he had wrote. You swallowed in discomfort at what he had said. You were about to crumble up the piece of paper, but before could, Dean managed to snatch the paper out of your grip to read it for himself. You warned him not to read it, but he did. “He thinks people I don’t need anymore–they end up dead.” The older Winchester muttered, reading the part you tried to keep from him.

You let out a sigh and tried your hardest to reassure him that it wasn’t true. But you could tell from the look on his face the man took the words to heart. And ever so slowly, the same type of expression you saw before came creeping back to his face. He began thinking about purgatory again, and the person he lost. They were so close..but Cas was still there. And it was all his fault.


	3. Heartache.

“You’ve been back for how long and now you finally decide to call me?”

You could tell by the tone of Josh Carver’s voice that he was pulling your leg in his infamous sarcasm you didn’t find the least bit funny today. You felt the need to give him an apologetic smile at how bad your timing was on these sort of things. You’d been trying to get back into the swing of things after regaining your own memories and getting up to speed with what you had missed out on, including the demon tablet business that had been weighing on your mind.

But right as you were about to take some time out of your day to call up your old friend, that’s when Crowley decided to steal the tablet and Kevin ran off with his mother. The three of you tried looking for the Tran family, yet you had no luck. So you decided to kill two birds with one stone and ask some help from your best friend.

You thought he’d be a bit spooked to see an incoming call from a new number, let alone the face of a person who was supposed to be dead for the past two years when you decided to video chat with him on the phone. (Which thing that apparently you could do, thanks for the help from Sam.) He seemed overjoyed at the sight of you when he picked up on this early afternoon. It was you who was taken back at his calm and casual attitude you weren’t expecting. Which you then learned about the small detail about how Dean called up the man after he bumped into you back at the college in Michigan to see if he knew anything about this. Now you felt like you were the one left with egg on your face.

“You look good.” You complimented the man as you took a moment to examine him for the first time. Josh still looked about the same since the last time you saw him. A little older around the eyes and his beard a bit more bushier than you remembered, but he seemed happier than he had been in a while. “I’m sorry about your grandparents, by the way. The boys told me about what happened.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll admit, it still hurts. But I’ve had time over the past few years to process. I keep telling myself they’re in a better place together.” Josh said. His way of thinking made you smile, this time, with genuine happiness. You’d known his grandparents since you were four years old and moved to Y/H/S. Losing them was like losing a pat of your own family. Josh leaned forward into the camera slightly as he examined the scenery around you. “Where the hell are you?”

“Farmer’s market.” You explained to the man. You were trailing behind the brothers while Sam shopped around for some local produce while Dean was engrossed in his phone, reading some article he found. You passed by people while keeping your attention to the man you were talking to. “How have things been for you?”

“Oh, you know. Boring. Nobody calling me up and asking me to do a favor about the creepy and crawly. Or a demon asking to make a deal with me.“ Josh jokingly said. You still found yourself rolling your eyes as your smile grew even wider. "Speaking of which, how have you been? Feels like it’s been two years since I heard from you. Oh wait…it has!”

"I hate you so much. You know that, right?” You told the man, Josh shrugged his shoulders. “I’m good. Honestly. Feels nice to be back in the swing of things. Be myself for a change. But I’ve been busy. And there was another reason why I called. Which wasn’t the main reason why. It’s nothing of serious matter…well, it kind of is. Kind of dealing with demons and missing prophets.”

“Another lovely adventure for our hunters, Y/N YL/N and the Winchesters. What’s going on?” Josh asked with curiosity. He broke into a smile, already wanting to know what kind of help you were going to ask from him. You suddenly grew hesitant about asking him for help after all the trouble you had caused the man not too long ago. Josh seemed to sense why you had grown all quiet. “Y/N, I owe you my life for what I did to you. Ask and you shall receive, my friend.”

“Well let’s just say I’ve got a prophet and his mother in the wind and Crowley has something that we spent forever trying to track down. If he gets his hands on the kid then who knows what will happen.” You explained to the man best as you could without admitting details out to the public. Josh seemed rather curious at the details alone. “Do you mind helping me out by keeping an eye on things? We just spent a week chasing our tails.”

"Helping my best friend out with all things supernatural and sticking it to the king of hell? Let me think about that.” Josh pretended to do just that, making you give him a look from how annoying he could be. “Send me an email of all the details. I’ll get back to you soon as I can once I got a system set up. Because, unlike some people, I still have a full-time job.”

You smiled in appreciation and mumbled a goodbye to Josh after thanking him for the hard work he willingly was about to do. You ended the call and shoved the phone back into your pocket to try and catch up with the brothers who were farther up ahead than you realized. Sam was eating an apple and examining some fresh vegetables while Dean was reading an article that he found. Everything was as you left them after you took a few minutes to see how Josh was doing. You squeezed yourself in between the boys to make your presence known.

“Wow. Guy goes to purgatory for a year, all hell breaks loose. Check this out.” Dean said. You leaned over slightly try and read some of the article he was reading that engrossed his attention so much. "A jogger in Minneapolis gets his heart ripped out.”

“I’m guessing literally?” You presumed the direction of where this was going.

“Only way that interests me.” Dean said. You scoffed quietly at his strange sense of humor while listening him continue on with the story that even got weirder. “And then, there’s another article from six months ago. Same things happens, also in Minneapolis. What does that tell us?”

"Stay out of Minneapolis.” Sam guessed. He was distracted to what his brother was saying. He didn’t think too much about the coincidences as he picked out a vine of tomatoes and handed over a few dollars to the friendly woman working the stand.

“Two hearts ganked, same city, six months apart. I mean, that’s got to be a ritual, man. Or at least some sort of a heart-sucking, possessed, satanic, crack-whore bat.” Dean went off, listing all sorts of presumptions that made you and his brother look at him with a funny expression. “It’s a case. Look, I say we hang out the shingle again and ride.”

“We’re on a case, Dean.” Sam told his brother with a mouth full of his chewed apple. “Kevin and the demon tablet need to be found, so heart guy takes a number.”

“Uh, we just spent a week chasing our asses trying to lock Devin down, okay? And look at us. We’re–” Dean finally looked up from his phone screen after stepping out of the Impala. He felt his face scrunch up in confusion at the sight of several stand tso many different stands around him with people walking around, examining fresh produce. “Where the hell are we?”

“Farmers’ market. Organic stuff. I know you haven’t touched a vegetable in your lifetime, but i’m pretty sure you could identify one.” You sarcastically implied as you gestured around the place all of you had been at for quite some time now. “Honestly, it wouldn’t hurt for us to actually include some healthier stuff in our diet. We’re not exactly getting any younger.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to look at you and his brother with a baffled expression. You weren’t sure if it was because of your suggestion to change up his diet, or the fact that his brother was spending the afternoon at such a hippie environment Dean would never be caught dead in. Either way, you rolled your eyes and shook your head. "What? I had a year off.” Sam defended himself against his brother’s judgmental stare. “I took the time to enjoy the good things.”

“While avoiding doing what we actually do.” Dean muttered, holding up his phone to subtly hint at the case his brother had nonchalantly dismissed just a minute ago.

“Wow, Dean, does it make you feel that much better every time you say it?” Sam asked. You could tell this conversation wasn’t heading in any direction helpful to Kevin or the victims. It was always about unresolved emotions between the two brothers they subtly fought back and forth about.

“All right, man, look, I get it. You took a year off to do yoga and play the lute, whatever. But I’m back. Okay, we’re back, which means that we walk and kill monsters at the same time. We’ll find Kevin. But in the meantime, do we ignore stuff like this?” Dean asked his brother as he held up his phone to the article he was reading. “Or are innocent people supposed to die while you shop for produce?”

You could tell by Sam’s expression that he was a bit hesitant to jump on board with the idea. But lucky for you and the boys, you already had a plan to keep him from backing out. “Actually, I had a pretty successful talk with Josh.” You spoke up. “I told him about Kevin. He’d be willing to keep an eye out on things while we hunt. Can’t hurt to have an extra set on this, right?”

Dean seemed on board with the idea when he shrugged his shoulders at the mention of a name that made him once cringe at the mere thought. However you noticed it was Sam who appeared apprehensive, even a little bit defeated. You gave him a small smile, knowing deep down this wasn’t what he wanted to do. Much as you would have loved to see Sam enjoying his life he lived just a year before again, shopping for organic fruit with this Amelia, enjoying his quiet life, it was only possible with one outcome. Once all of you found the demon tablet and Kevin, Sam could get his normal life back on track. But he would have to realize it was going to come anytime soon. You needed him too much right now for him to disappear.

\+ + +

You stood with one arm crossed over your chest and the other with your fingers wrapped around the chain of a locket that was once your mother’s you thought was lost forever. You accidentally put it in a box marked for charity when you were cleaning out all of her belongings a few months after she passed. While you were devastated and thought it was lost forever, it was found years later by Dean. He gifted it to you as a Christmas present the same year the both of you presumed it was going to be his last one because of the demon deal he made. It was one of your most favorite things you owned. You’d gotten in the habit of wearing it constantly since you got it. Right when you got out of hell for the first time to the first day you remembered who you were.

However you found it a little ironic when you realized the shape of the locket was exactly what the jogger was missing. You stared down at the glossy crime scene photographs of the victim lying face down on the grass. You let go of the heart shaped locket, feeling it fall back down to your chest as you reached out a hand to flip through the case file to find the autopsy report to try and see what else you could discover about this case. You read through the articles Dean found out about these murders and came to the conclusion this was your kind of weird. Nobody had the strength to rip out someone’s chest. Unless they had a little supernatural help.

“Here’s what’s odd about this thing–the guy wasn’t chopped or cut into, no incision.” You looked up from the case file and to the older Minneapolis detective assigned to working this case. “But his heart was ripped out of him like a peach pit.”

“Was he robbed?” Sam asked the detective as he grabbed a photograph to view for himself.

“Phone, watch, money all still on him.” The detective said. Your guess for this type of murder was possible werewolf, they liked the heart of the victims. But they were more messy about their killings. There wasn’t any traces of sulfur found in the chest cavity which ruled out a demon for now. It only left an infinite amount of possibilities for you. You asked the man if the victim had any enemies, wondering if the killer was working a little black magic, an angry ex-lover who dabbles in witchcraft to get back at their boyfriend. “He was in town for a conference. No local connections.”

“You guys had another one of these about six months ago.” Dean said, bringing up the other case while all of you were here discussing the first one that caught his attention.

“Yeah, and we hit a brick wall. We had nothing to go on, really. Thought maybe we got lucky here. A park surveillance camera picked up something.” The detective began walking over to the TV to show you and the boys the security camera footage of the park of your victim. You followed behind as he pulled up the video for all of you to review.

You watched as you saw the victim went on his way jogging at a steady pace, however you noticed right away that he wasn’t alone. You narrowed your eyes on the figure that went past him, it looked to be another runner. The detective stopped the footage to show the other runner wasn’t who you expected to be when he passed the victim. He was a little more on the heavier side, not exactly the type you would expect to go faster than the victim from his psychique alone. 

“That chubby guy the last person to see the vic alive?” Dean asked.

“Other than the killer. Name’s Paul Hayes.” The detective told all of you. “We pulled him in for questioning.”

“What makes you think he’s so clean?” Sam wondered, knowing looks could be deceiving in these kind of situations. The detective might see a chubby runner trying to get his work out in, you and the boys wondered if you found your killer.

“Well, so far, no reason not to. I mean, he said he briefly saw the victim, he ran ahead, that was it.” The detective said.

“Wait, you mean he didn’t fall to his knees and confess to gutting the guy?” Dean asked, taking it upon himself to believe the guy was guilty from the footage alone.

“No. I mean we did a thorough check on the guy, not so much as a parking ticket came up. I mean, look at him. Sure, he can run a little bit, but Thor he ain’t. You think he’s gonna grab Freddy fitness here and throw him down and rip his heart out? I don’t think so.” The detective said. You could tell this conversation was going in a bad direction from how you noticed the man was becoming a little bit heated. “Forgive me if I didn’t take him out back and shoot him.”

“Okay uh, so…” You cleared your throat as you smiled at the detective. You quickly snuck a hand up and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s suit jacket to yank him back into reality. You could tell he wasn’t exactly pleased at how the detective was speaking to him, but this wasn’t the place or the time. “Any idea where we can find the guy?”

\+ + +

You enjoyed eating healthy foods and running a few times a week in the morning as a way to help stay in shape and clear your head. But you would never down an opportunity to unbutton your jeans and devour something covered in grease and cheese. It was all about balance. But you would rather starve than drink whatever sort of concoction Paul Hayes threw in his blender. You smiled at the man standing behind the counter when he noticed you and the younger Winchester watch as the contents inside were turning into a dull green color that reminded you a little bit of vomit, if you had to be honest.

“Sorry. I kind of try to stick to a nutrition and workout schedule.” Paul explained to you and Sam. You watched as he poured himself a drink into a tall glass to enjoy, but not before offering you some out of politeness. “Do you want a hit?”

“I’m good. Thank you.” You mumbled, turning down the offer. Paul didn’t seem bothered. More for him to enjoy later. He circled around the counter so he was now leaning against it while the three of you discussed the night your victim died. “So, Paul, you passed a runner who was later killed. Did you speak with him at all?”

“Yeah, I went over this with the cops.” Paul said. You positioned your pen on the small notebook you pulled out to make it appear you were ready to jot down any sort of new information that would help you more than the cops. But you had a feeling he wasn’t going to be of much use. “I didn’t know him. I had never spoken to him. I ran past him. I never saw him again. The end.” You smiled slightly and wrote down the information as he took a sip of his drink, right as Dean stepped out of the bathroom. “Mm, oh. It’s disgusting. It tastes like crap, but it keeps you young.”

"Thanks, uh…” Dean chuckled to himself as he pointed to the bathroom that he snuck off to. You looked over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his toothy smile as he rubbed his stomach. “Too much fiber.”

“No such thing.” Paul said, pointing a finger at the man with a smile.

“Thank you.” Sam agreed with the man. You quietly scoffed when the younger Winchester gave his brother a smug look at who agreed with the healthy lifestyle choice. “See?”

“Funny. All the fiber in the world and you two would still be full of crap.” You muttered the insult to your notepad as you stared down at the notes you had written down. It was obvious you’d gotten the brothers’ attention, but you didn’t really care. You looked up at Paul and continued on with the conversation. “Now, Paul, we couldn’t help but notice that the jogger you outraced was a good deal much younger than you.”

“Yeah, and less, uh…” Dean didn’t want to be rude as he tried to mention the other factor about how a man like him outran the victim. He gestured with his hand to the stomach region where Paul was carrying a few extra pounds that would have slowed anyone down at his weight alone.

“Uh, full-figured? You should’ve seen me before. Yeah, hugging the desk all day and watching TV all night, eating fried everything was killing me. I had a health scare about a year ago.” Paul admitted. You gave the man a sympathetic look as Sam apologized for hearing such a thing. But Paul seemed like it was a blessing in disguise. “No, it changed my life. I mean, I started taking care of myself.”

“Now your body’s a temple, huh?” Dean said, taking a wild guess at the man’s new philosophy.

“Where I worship every day.” Paul agreed as he chuckled to himself. He raised his glass to his lips to take another sip of his juice. Your nose scrunched up slightly at the look of discomfort alone that crossed over the man’s face as he forced himself to drink the smoothie he prepared for himself. You shut the small notebook and clicked the pen to let the tip go back. You had a feeling this conversation was over. But it didn’t mean Paul was off your radar just yet.

\+ + +

You and the boys found a little face not too far from Paul’s house where you could sit down and gather all the information you knew so far about the case. You took a seat in the back where you wouldn’t be disturbed. While Sam was off for the moment and Dean was doing some research on the laptop, you busied yourself for the past few minutes up the email you meant to send to Josh earlier before all of you picked up this case. You were typing out the last paragraph when you saw Sam appear in your peripheral vision. You turned away from your phone screen to look up the man, greeting him with a small smile at his return.

“All right, so, what’s the word?” Sam asked his brother as he took his seat back down next to you so he could review the case file again. “What did you find poking around at Paul’s?”

“Ah, just the usual–condoms, hair gel.” Dean said while he scrolled through a few news articles in curiosity if he could find another similar cases like this. “No hex bags, nothing satanic, nothing spooky.”

"So, he didn’t seem like a guy who would be voted most likely to be disembowel?” You curiously wondered as you sent the email off to the world wide wide. You let out a sigh and placed your phone down on the table for safekeeping. “The freaks always gotta blend in with the normal folk. Always gotta make our jobs a hell of a lot harder.”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Nancy Drew, but it did. I just found another one.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow as you turned your attention over to the laptop screen to see what he was talking about. You asked him if it was another murder. “And a do-it-yourself heart bypass. Two days after this one.”

“What part of Minneapolis?” You asked.

“The Iowa part.” Dean said. “Ames.”

“Well, Paul was here being questioned. There’s no way that could have been him.” You said in disbelief. You grabbed your phone and pulled up the location app and put in the city of the most recent victim. It would have only taken three hours to drive to Ames and another three to come back. But Paul would have had no time to make that commute while the police were all over him trying to get his statement.

“This guy was a cop. This is exactly what happened six months ago. Minneapolis, then Ames. Guess you missed that one, Sammy.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes when he looked over at his little brother to make another jab at something you heard years before. Sam didn’t seem so amused himself. “I’m just saying.” 

You loved these boys with every fiber of your being, you really did. But sometimes they tested your patience. This was the exact same argument you remembered them having over and over again way back when you first started hunting with them, eight years ago. Sam wanted to have his normal and Dean tried to keep him hunting. You didn’t care what the boys wanted to do, long as they were happy doing it. That’s all that mattered to you. But neither one of them liked to do things like you. It was always about their big picture. So you kept your opinion to yourself.

You merely packed up the case file and slammed the laptop shut, gathering them together in your arms before turning around to head out the front door. You headed for the Impala, leaving the brothers to wonder what was making you so upset. They’d get it eventually. For now you’d let Dean’s pettiness and Sam’s constant need for a normal life continue on. You just wanted to figure out who the hell was ripping out people’s hearts.

\+ + +

“Arthur Swenson. Real top-shelf officer. Twenty years on the force.” Deputy Levitt told you about your murderer the next morning in the Ames police station. You and the boys were sitting at the deputy’s desk while you listened to him retell the gruesome night. “He’d ordered a pizza, which the vic delivered. The vic didn’t make his next drop-off. His body was found on the walk in front of Swenson’s.”

“And he wasn’t hearing a heart?” Dean asked for clarification.

“No.” Deputy Levitt answered the man. “Heartless.”

“And, uh,” Sam ignored his brother’s smirk when he looked over at him when he doubted if this was the same kind of thing. It turned out that it very much was. “What about Swenson?”

“Crumpled up on the front stoop. Covered in blood, crying like a baby.” The deputy told all of you, giving you a picture of what unfolded that night. Nobody just rips someone’s heart out and then starts feeling remorse for it. Unless they were forced to. “Ironically, he had been in court all week, testifying.”

Deputy Levitt was pulled away from the conversation when one of the offices mentioned about a call waiting for him. You leaned over slightly in your seat when you noticed the deputy took the call, giving you a moment of privacy with the boys to speak about what you just heard. “So that couldn’t have been him in Minneapolis.” You whispered, your brow raising up at what this meant for all of you.

“I hate when this happens.” Dean muttered. The call lasted another moment before the deputy hung up, giving his full attention back to the three of you. “So, this Arthur guy, what does he have to say?”

“Uh…it’s not real helpful.” Deputy Levitt warned you for what you were about to see.

Arthur Swenson waited for all of you in the interrogation room after you asked to speak with the man to see what he had to say. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but what you walked into was up there in the strange department. You sat across from the man as Sam attempted to record the muttered words Arthur kept repeating. You watched as his fingers kept twitching while he had them folded on the table. He kept saying something underneath his breath with such intense and complete concentration. You narrowed your eyes on him in curiosity from what could have possibly made him this way.

“So, you getting his statement?” Dean asked his brother. He stood next to the iron bars to have a more clear and wider focus on the prisoner. But there wasn’t much to see while Arthur kept repeating the same words and rocking back and forth slightly for the past few minutes

“Uh, yeah, kind of.” Sam mumbled. “Probably not.”

“It’s too bad I dropped out of Lunatic 101.” Dean said, knowing all of you weren’t getting much help from the gibberish Arthur was repeating to himself over and over again.

“Whatever it is, it sounds like he’s repeating it.” You noticed. Arthur moved his gaze up slightly from the table so he was now looking up, but nowhere in particular. You furrowed your brow when you noticed something oddly strange about his appearance you didn’t see very often in people. He had one blue eye, the other brown. “Guys, look at his eyes.”

“Hey, Arthur…” Dean spoke up to the older man as he walked over to the table. He leaned over and placed his hands on the table to get at some eye level with him. “Did you do this alone?”

Arthur responded with the same muttered words. You decided to see if you might be luck at getting an actual answer out of him. “Arthur, did some invisible voice tell you you had to kill?”

You flinched slightly when Arthur slammed his fist on the table, rousing an emotion out of him for a split second before he went back to his whispered chanting. “Oh, now you pissed him off.” Dean said. You gave him a dirty look from his remark. He sat himself down on the edge of the table to try and do a little experiment on the man. “Hey, Art. Can I call you Art? Listen, I’m gonna sprinkle your arm with holy water, and it’s gonna steam and burn if you’re possessed by a demon.” Dean told the man, Arthur didn’t seem to protest as he kept chanting. “He’s a mushroom.”

Dean twisted off the cap to the flask of holy water he kept on him for situations like this. He poured out a small amount on Arthur, expecting a reaction out of him, but nothing. His skin didn’t burn as he kept on chanting. You let out a sigh. “Okay, not possessed.”

“Arthur, you want to tell us why you did this?” Dean questioned the man. Arthur sat up straight in his seat as he repeated his words in a bit of a louder tone before quieting down. The older Winchester nodded his head as he appeared to be listening intently, only he was growing angry at the lack of change in behavior. “Okay.”

You found yourself quietly chuckling in amusement when Dean pushed himself off the table and back on to his feet in defeat at the lack of any real answers. You looked back over at Arthur as he kept on repeating the words over and over again. Whatever they were, they seemed to be important to him. If only you could understand what the hell he was saying.

\+ + +

Later that night you and the boys booked yourselves a motel room in town, thinking you might be here for a while. Your heels were abandoned by the door along with your blazer that was lying across a small desk not too far from there. You sat next to Sam on his bed while he played the recording of Arthur’s soft mummers that you still couldn’t stand. You still listened, in hopes that something like a word or the phrase might spark something to you.

“So, what do you think?” Sam asked the both of you, turning off the recorder.

“Personally, I prefer the Keith Richards version.” Dean said. You quietly chuckled at his lame joke as he unpacked some of his clothing he was about to slip into before calling it a night.

“Can you actually understand any of the words?” You asked the older Winchester.

“If they are words. Sounds like babble to me.” Dean said. The older man suddenly was struck with an idea when he pulled out his cell phone, thinking it might be of use for all of you. “Wait a second. I bought a translation app.”

“You bought an app.” You had to repeat what you just heard, a smile spreading across your lips from how sort of comical it was “Says the guy who still uses cassette tapes in his car. Surprised you even know how to work that thing.“

“Says the girl who couldn’t even figure out video chat. Here, play it.” Dean put his phone to the recorder as his brother hit the play button again, letting Arthur’s incoherent rambles fill the room again. It went on for a few moments before Dean looked at his phone to see what the verdict was. "And babble wins. ‘Language unknown.’”

“I’ll be damned.” You muttered, not all that shocked at the findings. You heard your very own cell phone go off, making you shove a hand inside the pocket of your black slacks to see who it was. You carried on the conversation with the person the other line. The boys noticed that your expression fell into a serious one as your brow furrowed, a few moments later you wrapped up the call. “You’re not gonna believe this, but Arthur’s in the hospital.”

“What?” Sam asked. You could hear the surprise in his voice. “What happened.”

“Apparently our man of many words tried taking out his own eye. They want us down there.” You said. You pushed yourself up to your feet and shoved your phone back into your pocket for safekeeping. Dean followed right behind you. But before he could waste the time in getting himself all done up again, you stopped him. “You know, I can do this on my own. It’s late. I’m sure you two want to call it a night. Enjoy some brotherly time.”

Before either one of them could offer up the chance to take this opportunity to do this one on your own, you were up on your feet, snatching your blazer and slipping your heels back on. You grabbed the keys to the Impala and reassured Dean his precious Baby would be just fine. You left the two brothers alone for the next few hours, giving you a break for once from them. You kept reminding yourself you loved the boys, you really did. But sometimes they were too much for you to even handle. And for the first time since hearing about his death, you wished Bobby was here to help.

\+ + +

The last time you saw Arthur Swenson he was at the police station, in a complete trance mumbling words you couldn’t quite understand, but he was alive. Now you stood in the hallway of the hospital, staring at him strapped down to a bed with bandages wrapped around his head, sedated for the moment. You crossed your arms over your chest from what could have possibly caused this. Arthur’s doctor, Dr. Kashi, stood by your side as the both of you discussed the matter of what made Arthur pluck his own eye out. 

“So, Dr Kashi, what are we looking at here,” You asked the doctor. “Some kind of psychotic break?”

“Oh, definitely.” She agreed. “He was very thorough. Severed the optic nerve. He was determined to remove the eye.”

“And he used, uh, what to cut with?” You wondered. Cells were frequently checked thoroughly by police for any sort of weapons that might hurt themselves or other. Arthur would have known this being a cop. But he also would know what to do to harm himself if he desperately wanted to. 

“He doesn’t look strong enough, but he broke off part of the bed frame and used it as a knife.” Dr. Kashi said. You raised your brow in surprise as a nurse passed the both of you by, handing over a few files to the doctor before disappearing. 

“Wow. They should put warning labels on those beds.” You muttered. You winced at the thought alone of someone shoving something sharp into your eye. Let alone gathering the strength to rip off a metal piece of the bed frame with your bare hands. Either Arthur was the Incredible Hulk, or something possessed him to do it. “I noticed that he had two different-colored eyes.”

“Yes. Apparently, he was in an accident where much of one eye was shattered. His vision was saved with a transplant.” Dr. Kashi said. You looked back over at the man and asked her when this was. She opened up the file on him and skimmed through a few pages before finding the bit of information. “A year ago, almost to the date. And, interestingly, it’s the transplanted eye he chose to cut out.”

“Really?” You muttered, finding this a bit interesting. And helpful for you. “Hey, let me ask you something, doc. Is it possible to trace the donor of a transplanted organ?”

“Difficult.” Dr. Kashi said. 

“But possible?” You wondered.

The doctor smiled, answering your question. You returned the gesture before looking over at the sedated patient again. It’d been a while since you got to do research for a case. And what better way to start than hunting down Arthur Swenson’s doner after he carved out their lovely gift.

\+ + +

You woke up the next morning to a familiar sight you knew too well, and quite frankly missed more than you realized. A laptop with a dead battery and a sore neck from how you fell asleep while trying to track down Arthur Swenson’s doner last night. It’d been a long while since you had done research on something that wasn’t related to finding a solution to an end of the world problem or some “Mommy Dearest” purgatory issue. Sure, you’d admit you were a little rusty after taking the past few years off from hunting along with the time you spent dealing with the purgatory issues before. You didn’t even know the last time you and the boys took a proper, old fashion monster hunt without a demon or angel attached to the problem. It seemed you lost a bit of your touch.

You remembered to pass on the information at least to the boys after returning from the hospital last night. Sam probably had luck at finding out who the donor was. Which meant if he did all of you were going to have a long day ahead of you. You dragged yourself out of bed and hit the bathroom to take a hot shower, attempting to relieve your sore neck and tiredness you were going to have to adjust to as well that came with little hours for sleeping while on a hunt. You might have gained your memories of who you were again, but you didn’t the forget the other life you lived as Y/F/N and all her own.

You’d admit in a heartbeat you had it pretty good while living as Y/F/N. She had everything you once wanted a long time ago; a husband, parents and a career that was actually something you wouldn’t have hated. It all seemed pretty good. And you realized that it was. Happiness like this came with a price, it always did.

While you were enjoying the pretend life you always wanted, the real people you called a family thought you were dead with no chance at coming back. You abandoned them for two years. And in that span you lost two important people you couldn’t say goodbye to. Bobby died thinking you were dead as well. Not to mention Cas was still stuck in Purgatory, fighting for his life. Ever since you got your head back on straight, your mind had been filled with nonstop questions about what would have happened if you didn’t beg for Cas to give you a normal life.

Was there even a chance things could have ended differently? Could have you helped prevented Bobby’s death? Could have you stopped Cas and Dean from going to Purgatory? If all things stayed as they were, was there even a possibility that Sam wouldn’t have ran off to live his normal life? You doubt you would have stopped him from doing so. Maybe if you did Kevin wouldn’t have been alone instead of being in the wind with his mother, Crowley doing everything in his power to find the prophet.

You could sit here and think about all the “What If” questions all you wanted, but it wasn’t ever going to change anything. It wasn’t going to fix the past, and it wasn’t going to help shape the future. You were back, so was Dean. The three of you were going to track down Kevin and close the damn gates of hell. Even if it killed you, you were going to do it.

You headed to the boys motel room a few doors down from yours and knocked twice before stepping inside, greeted by the sight of Sam sitting on the bed with his laptop on his outstretched legs and Dean nursing what appeared to be a coffee. You made your way over to where the older Winchester was, mumbling a good morning to him as you spotted the paper cup with the very thing that you were craving. You sat down on a nearby chair and took a few sips of the drink, when you spotted pastries, you leaned over, eyeing what looked good.

“Arthur Swenson had an eye transplant a year ago, right? Well, I remember Paul Hayes was talking about a health scare he had a year ago that changed his life, so I pulled up his medical records from Minneapolis.” Sam said, not missing a beat to discuss the case all of you had been working on. You raised your brow in curiosity at how good he was, his brother seemed a little surprised to see the man was so invested, despite the lack of enthusiasm he showed before. “You want me on board, I’m on board. Anyways, you want to guess who else, other than Arthur Swenson, had a transplant in the last year?”

“Hmm.” You pretended to think for a moment about your answer. “Paul Hayes?”

“I gave it away, didn’t I?” Sam asked, you gave him a sarcastic smile before taking another sip.

“Okay, so we’ve got two suspects in two identical murders in two different cities that both had organ transplants a year ago.” Dean summarized with what all of you knew so far. Thanks to his little brother, the man followed it up with an also, which meant there was more to be learned. “I love when there’s an ‘also.’”

“I got to thinking about all that stuff Arthur Swenson was talking about. Maybe your translation app called it 'Languge Unknown’ because it’s a dead language, like ancient greek or manx.” Sam explained to the both of you. You nodded your head slowly as Dean repeated repeated the last language in a confused sort of way, having no clue what it was. His brother ignored the question and continued talking. “So I emailed an audio file of Arthur’s mumbling to Dr. Morrison.”

“Who’s Dr. Morrison?” You asked.

“A professor we worked with while you were away. Remember, Dean?” Sam reminded his bother of a case the both of them took. You looked over at the older Winchester, only to see he was confused as you were at who it was. Sam gave his brother a look, the type of one that should have reminded him that he didn’t need to spell this one out. Considering what happened on that case. “Dr. Morrison, the anthropology professor who helped us out with the Amazons.”

“Amazons?” Your face scrunched up slightly as you continued asking your questions. “What the hell are they?”

"Uh,” Dean knew you were just curious as to what sort of new monsters the both of them had encountered while you were gone from hunting. However he found himself suddenly feeling nervous at admitting any sort of word about them, fearful the truth about what happened would come to light. He hadn’t thought much about it, until now. “Nothing important. I say we hit the road. If we are in a repeat of a cycle from six months ago then, after the murders in Minneapolis and in Ames, the next heart attack was in Boulder, Colorado.”

You found Dean’s nonchalant behavior to answering your question a bit odd. Most of the time he was more than happy to tell you about what happened while you were gone. For some reason the mention of the Amazons made him quiet up. You tried not to think much about it. You knew when he got this way it meant something bad happened on a hunt. You wondered what.

\+ + +

“Amazons were thought to be created by the meeting of deities Ares and Harmonia, creating a tribe of warrior women who had no need for males, except for reproduction. At some point they had a war, and their numbers were vastly depleted, as such they made a deal with Harmonia to save them from extinction, and she made them more than human, effectively turning them into monsters. However it is thought Amazons are sighted to this very day, even reported sightings in America.

Amazons have a rapid reproduction rate; after mating with a human man, it takes three days for the offspring to grow into a fully grown human. (It has been speculated women become pregnant hours after intercourse and giving birth, hours after that, the child continued to mature, growing into late teens only two days after birth. Once they reach 16, their aging process becomes normal.) During the day of their birth, children are trained and tortured, making them strong. Before their initiation, they have a mark burned into their skin. It is thought they have superhuman strength. However despite their supernatural abilities, they can be killed like any other human.”

On the way to Colorado you kept yourself busy by learning what you could on these Amazons creatures, curious to what they were and capable of. You sat in the backseat of the Impala in almost complete darkness, the only light coming from your phone as you scrolled through the article that delved into the lore. You found all of it sort of fascinating in a way to discover a species of monster that could reproduce only one specific gender and be over with the process in little time. For humans it was a tedious process of carrying a child. Nine months of growing bigger and bigger until a screaming newborn pop out of you. 

However from what you read they were more of a use em and lose em kind of women. They might only depend on a many to provide a fi night, but their children were forced to do heinous things to the baby daddy. You slowly looked up from your phone, wondering to yourself why made Dean so upset when you asked about it. Maybe one of their old hunting buddies you never met got caught up with these women. Maybe they had to kill one of these Amazons when they were just a child. Whatever it was, part of you wanted to know what it was. After this hunt you decided you were going to ask Dean what happened. 

“All right, case is coming together. Things are coming together, man. You, me and Nancy Drew. It is all good.” Dean spoke up for the first time in fifteen miles. You looked up from your phone at his sort of cheery attitude. You smiled at his reflection in the rear view mirror and shook your head before turning your attention back to your phone. Sam remained silent in the passenger side. His brother took his eyes off the road for a moment to see Sam was staring off into space. “Hey. What are you thinking about, organic tomatoes?”

“Uh, I’m not thinking about anything.” Sam said, shrugging off the question. 

“I don’t know about you, but this last year has given me a new perspective.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow slightly when the younger Winchester agreed with his brother. You knew well enough they weren’t thinking the same thing. “I know where I’m at my best, and that is right here, driving down crazy street next to you two.”

“Makes sense.” Sam agreed to some point with his brother’s ideology. The three of you for the past several years have gotten used to the open road, driving down it in the Impala, looking for monsters to hunt. It worked well enough, but some of you thought it was time to hang that up for something new. “Or…maybe you don’t need me. I mean, maybe you’re at your best hacking and slicing your way through all the world’s crap alone, not having to explain yourself to anybody.”

You inhaled a deep breath as you rolled your eyes aggressively into the back of your head. You refrained yourself from speaking a word as you looked back down at your phone. Dean was silent for a moment at the younger man’s words before responding. “Yeah, that makes sense, seeing as I have so many other brothers I can talk to about this stuff.”

Sam rubbed his face with the palm of his hand in frustration at what his brother was saying, not getting the bigger picture he was desperately trying to make him see. “Look, I’m not saying I’m bailing on you and Y/N. I’m just saying make room for the possibility that we want different things. I mean, I want my time to count for something.”

“So, what we do doesn’t count?” Dean asked a legitimate question to his little brother, wanting to know if the past thirty years of the young man’s life had been nothing. Sure, it wasn’t normal like some people’s. But it sure as hell wasn’t borning. Sam seemed to have forgotten about the lives he saved, the apocalypse he stopped and countless other things that fell in between the years.

Before this argument could proceed, you were saved by the bell when your phone went off. You quickly answered it with a friendly tone, realizing it seconds later that it was Dr. Kashi. She gave you some updates on who the donor was along with a few other things you asked for her. While you had her on the line, you asked her to run Paul Hayes name to see who the donor was, and doing so, made a connection that made it feel Lady Luck was on your side today. She gave you a few other names to a few people who had gotten organs from the donor. When you got the information, you thanked her and ended the call.

“If you two are done bickering like an old married couple, I’ve got some wonderful news.” You said. Your lips stretched into a smile as you gave the information to them. “She says that both of Paul Haye’s kidney and Arthur Swenson’s new eye came from—you two ready for this?—Brick Holmes.” 

“You don’t mean the Brick Holmes.” Sam said with disbelief. “The all-pro quarterback?”

“Mhmm. The one and only. The guy played at the top of his game for like a million years.” You said. "Too bad he got into that car crash last year. Didn’t he nose-dive off a bridge or something?”

“Yeah. He must’ve signed a donor card.” Sam said. “Did the doctor say how many organs he donated?”

“Including our two suspects? Eight. Unfortunately none of ours live in Boulder, However,” You suggested a new plan as you shoved your phone into your pocket for safekeeping until you would need it again. “I was thinking since Brick lives just outside of there, we could swing by there. See what we can find.”

Dean didn’t seem to oppose to the change in plans as he focused his attention back to driving. It was Sam who leaned back in his seat and rolled his eyes, you caught the sign of annoyance when a passing car headlights illuminated the car and you so happen looked into the passenger side side mirror. You sank your teeth into your tongue, refraining yourself from making a remark about how Sam would find his happy ever after soon enough. You thought Dean was the only one who came back around rough around the edges, but it seemed his brother was as well.

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys were in Boulder and situated in a new motel, giving you a chance to freshen up and switch into some formal clothing to interview Brick Holmes’ mother. It seemed he left to see what you could find more about him. It seemed he left his mother in quite good care from the swanky mansion you pulled up to that looked more expensive than anything you could ever wish to own. Mrs. Holmes herself greeted the three of you with a friendly smile and welcomed you into her home when you claimed to be the FBI.

You smoothed out your skirt as you adjusted one ankle over the other so your legs were crossed on possibly the most comfortable couch you’ve ever sat on. The boys were across from you as they occupied the loveseats while Mrs. Holmes wondered what this was all about.

"I just want to say how sorry we are for your loss, Mrs. Holmes.” You told her, giving the woman a sympathetic smile.

“You know, Brick Holmes was my idol back in high school. Amazing career.” Sam admitted as he bashfully smiled at the fanboy that crept out from him in front of the late adele’s mother. “Uh, Eighteen pro seasons, seven division championships, four Super Bowls—never slowed down a day.”

“Brick lived for competition and athletic perfection.” Mrs. Holmes said. “I don’t think it occurred to his fans that he was human, like the rest of us.”

“Do you know your son was an organ donor?” You asked the woman, changing the subject to the reason why you were here in the first place.

Mrs. Holmes responded with a bit of a confused expression, “Does that make this a matter for the FBI?”

 

“Like we explained earlier,” Dean explained to the woman as he gave her a polite smile and told her a little white lie to hold her questions. “we’re mostly here, uh, to dot some I’s on a different matter.”

“It was a public-awareness thing a few years ago. A lot of star athletes signed on. I’m sure Brick didn’t think twice about it, since he never thought he was going to die.” Mrs. Holmes said. You couldn’t but find what she said a little bit odd. But you supposed people like him thought they were untouchable from something like death. People like him thought their life was one constant high that was never going to end.

“A lot of jocks are like that, I guess.” Dean agreed with the woman as he let out a quiet chuckle. “You know, I can’t help wonder what happened that night on that bridge. There was light traffic, no alcohol involved, no skid marks. Big-time athlete, reflexes like a cat, how is it that he just drives off the side of a bridge?”

“When things happen that aren’t supposed to happen, they’re called accidents, I believe.” Mrs. Holmes said. The tone of her voice shifted into a colder one from the speculation Dean was making on her son that she wasn’t comfortable with. Nor would she want to think about.

“So, everybody knows about Brick’s football career, obviously, but no one knows much about his personal life.” You spoke up, asking her another question to keep Mrs. Holmes focus before she could grow impatient with all of you. “Was he ever married?”

 

“Just to the game. He gave it everything he had.” Mrs. Holmes admitted. “It’s a difficult life.”

“Did you notice any changes in Brick before he died—you know, anyone, anything new in his life?” Dean asked her. Mrs. Holmes thought about it for a moment before she shook her head, not thinking of anything that seemed out of the ordinary. “So, no new interests? Fly fishing, stamp collecting, the occult?”

“The occult?” Mrs. Holmes repeated.

“As a 'for instance.’” Dean said.

“No. Everything was just as it had been. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid my time is up.” Mrs. Holmes apologized. She pushed herself up to her feet and smoothed out her outfit before it could become wrinkled. “The university is naming a new athletic building after Brick. I can’t be late.”

“Of course.” You said. “Just one more question.”

There is always one more question in life, isn’t there? That’s what I find.“ Mrs. Holmes said, brushing off your request as she started to head off to the door to show all of you out. As the woman passed you by, you gave her a dirty look from her dismissive behavior.

You and the boys followed behind the woman, not wanting any trouble to come of this friendly meeting. You let out an annoyed sigh when the front door slammed behind you. "Oh, she doesn’t have much to say, did she?” You mumbled, making your way back to the Impala.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean’s curse words made you suddenly stop in your tracks. You looked over at the older man with a confused expression as to what made a reaction like that come out. “There it is. It happened.”

“Come on, don’t tell me someone had their heart ripped out here in Boulder.” Sam said, the kind of way that was more in disbelief at how strange the timing was. His brother took it another way.

“All right, then I won’t tell you.” Dean cooley replied.

Dean headed to the Impala first, Sam followed behind a few moments later after he dealt the blow another passive aggressive move from his brother. You let out a sigh and made your way to the backseat a few moments later, wondering how much more of this you going to have to take. One could only bite their tongue for so long until they drew blood. You just needed to find something to make these boys stop fighting and be a family again. That’s all you wanted. So why did it feel so hard to do?

\+ + +

There wasn’t much more you and the boys could do while you waited on the translation from the professor Morrison you heard about. You kept an eye out on for more possible attacks before settling into a little research on the very closed off Mrs. Holmes and her late son. Brick’s death wasn’t the least bit suspicious far as you could tell. But accidents weren’t just accidents when almost everyone Brick had given an organ to was starting to rip out poor people’s hearts for no rhyme or reason. The professor called a little later Sam spoke to the man, jotting down the translation and the bit of information that came from it. You looked up from your laptop screen to see Sam was still sitting on the bed, nodding his head as the professor continued on.

"All right, Professor Morrison, that does it. The FBI thanks you. Yes, I am totally looking into adding you as a technical advisor. Yeah, it comes with a medical plan. Alright, goodbye.” Sam finally managed to get himself free from the conversation as he stood up from the bed, managing to slip out a lie before hanging up the phone. You raised your brow as you let out a quiet chuckle from his annoyed expression.

“He come through?” You curiously asked.

“Yeah, he did. All right, so, here’s what crazy Arthur Swenson was babbling over and over.” Sam said. He headed over to the table where you and his brother had been occupying for a while and took a seat opposite from Dean. “Um, first, it is a dead language—ancient Mayan.”

“Doesn’t get much deader than that.” Dean said.

“So, what Arthur was saying was ‘The divine god Cacao is born.’” Sam explained to the both of you. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering what the hell a cacao was. “Cacao. Yeah, the Mayan God of maize—corn, the big crop. See, Cacao was the most powerful god because maize was the most important thing to the Mayans. Well, that and torturing and killing everyone in sight.”

 

“Also thinking the world was going to end last year. So,” You shut your laptop and continued on with the topic. “this is what we’re looking for, is a thousand-year-old culture’s god of corn?”

“Uh, I guess.” Sam shrugged, unsure of what else could be at fault for these murders. It was how the research was coming out to be. You still needed to know how Brick Holmes tied into all of this mess of his organs making people go crazy.

“Well, whatever it is, we better cap it quick, or somebody in Phoenix is next up to get their heart yanked. He’s got a piece of Brick. I got a name. And I emailed the cops not too long ago. Just heard back from them. They haven’t seen the guy in days. Uh, oh, got another email here, too. This one is for you, Sammy.“ Dean said. His gaze never left the computer, however you could see the displeasure all over his expression from what it was about. Even though he was calm, his poker face could only work for so long. “From a university. Answering questions about admissions.”

"Just something I’m looking into.” Sam replied, not wanting to get into this with his brother. “An option.”

Dean stared his brother for a long moment, “You’re seriously talking about hanging it up?”

“I’m not talking about anything, Dean. I’m just looking at options.” Sam defended himself. Dean didn’t reply to his brother. He just continued to stare at him in a way that made him realize how he was feeling without having to say a single word. “So, what, should we just go to Phoenix and chase our tails until this guy shows his face?”

“No. Uh, Brick Holmes is the way into this. Eleanor Holmes was doing her damndest not to tell us a thing.” You said. You pushed yourself up to your feet and grabbed your laptop so it was now cradled in your arms for safekeeping. You looked at both of the boys before departing back to your motel room. “I’m really glad the both of you aren’t getting personal issues in the way of this hunt. Keep it up.”

You could feel the sarcasm oozing out from the cheery voice you used on the brothers to prove your point of how annoying they were. You forced yourself to smile before heading out the motel door, getting out of there before you could say something to get the both of them on the straight and narrow. There was only so much more of this you could take before you snapped.

\+ + +

Later into the evening, you and the boys headed back to the Holmes’ residence when you were sure Eleanor wouldn’t be around, giving you a chance to poke your nose around the place to see what you could find. She didn’t give you much of anything to go on when you interviewed her earlier this afternoon. Which meant she had to be hiding something in this big mansion of hers. But you and the boys didn’t have all the time in the world. The naming ceremony in Brick’s name would be over in the next hour, which meant you had to slightly rush into going through the house to see what kind of secrets she was hiding. All of you decided to hit the master bedroom, seeming like it would be a good place to start.

The boys each took a walk in closet as you went for the dresser that was conveniently placed in the middle of the double doors. You began to open up drawers and shuffling through clothes to see what you could find. Perhaps a hidden journal or a book on dark magic. Whatever might help explain why people who had been given Brick’s organ were suddenly ripping out stranger’s hearts with their bare hands. All you were finding was clothes and more clothes. None of which was helpful to you.

“Brick’s closet. Looks like this stuff hasn’t been touched in a year. Man, what this stuff would go for on eBay.“ Dean mumbled to himself as he gawked at the clothing that once belonged to a sports legend. He opened up his first drawer to pull out something he wasn’t expecting, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. "Hey, Sammy, would it totally crush you to know that your boy Brick wasn’t a natural blond?”

“Dean, this is really weird.” Sam called out. He stood in the middle of the narrow room, staring at the pieces of clothing nobody would expect a man of Brick’s size would wear. Or even be able to fit into. Which meant these weren’t the man’s possessions. “Is this Eleanor’s closet?”

“Why would his mother’s closet be in here?” Dean asked. “Are you sure?”

Sam examined the clothing for a moment before grabbing a hanger off the hook when he noticed it looked awfully familiar. He stepped out of the closet and held up the outfit for you and his brother to see. “Check this out. This is what she was wearing today when we talked to her.”

“Maybe she moved into Brick’s room after he died. I mean, I moved into my mom’s room after she passed. Of course, I got rid of everything of hers. Even her clothes.” You said. You had an idea that suddenly came to you from what you and the boys found. You slowly looked over at the king sized bed that was across the room, subtly hinting at a taboo idea that made you cringe at the thought alone. “Or…”

“Oh.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. He quickly looked away from the bed and physically cringed from the image that you painted inside his head without saying it. “Thanks, Y/N. Now that image is permanently etched into my retinas.”

You shrugged off the mental damage you caused to the younger Winchester and continued on your search to finding anything that might help out the hunt here. You scoured through a few more drawers as Sam shuffled around a few hangers, but it was Dean who found the jackpot as he casually glanced around Brick’s closet. He shoved past a handful of clothes down the middle to see what appeared to be a small handle peeking out from the wall. Dean could see an outline in the wooden wall as well that resembled what could only be a door leading to a secret room.

It wasn’t too hard to open up the door that lead to the secret passageway that you would have never expected to find. However it wasn’t filled with all sorts of creepy memorabilia and all that sorts, it was more of a trophy room for every sport you could think of. You raised your brow in amazement from all sorts of things you saw when you stepped into the room after the boys. Sam couldn’t help himself when he nearly raced into the room to see what sort of things Brick had hidden away. It was pretty impressive, you had to admit.

“Wow.” Sam whispered in astonishment. “I knew he’d have something like this in his house.”

“This is a lot of hardware.” Dean said. He stepped inside the room and towards a shelf with all sorts of things related to different kinds of sports memorabilia. You spotted a football on display, but right below it you noticed at least nine different signed baseballs and what appeared to be an old helmet for racing. “Okay, the football trophies I get, but there’s a lot of other stuff here—I mean, baseball, boxing, race-car driving.”

“He was a fan. Any kind of athlete—he respected. I mean, look at all the old stuff he’s got—a cricket mallet, golf clubs, a kendo sword,” Sam gestured to said sword as he lifted it up to show what he was talking about as he looked around the room at everything Brick had collected over the years. “archery equipment.”

You looked around the room yourself and to a few huge trophies displayed not too far from where you stood. You curiously your way forward to them, but it was a small container on a shelf below the trophies that caught your attention. You bent down and grabbed the container from its spot on the shelf. You took off the top to see it was a bunch of handwritten letters. You walked over to the table and placed down the box, you nodded your head for the boys to join you for a little light reading.

All of you took a letter from the box to see what they were, and after skimming, a few, you realized they were love letters. Each and every one was written with the same person and ended the same person detailing about how much they missed this Betsey woman. You reached your hand inside the box to pull out a letter on the bottom to see if that one might be different. But it was addressed to the same person and written the exact same way. You furrowed your brow in confusion and placed the letter back down on the table with the rest. 

“They’re all the same.” You told the boys what you discovered as you examined the pile of letters. ‘Dearest Betsy…’ Blah blah blah. Who’s Betsy?”

“I don’t know. Girlfriend?” Dean tried guessing the identity of the woman. “Eleanor didn’t mention a Betsy.”

 

Sam flipped through a few letters before he opened up one still shoved in an envelope. He slipped the letter out and unfolded it, noticing the yellow discoloration from years. “This one looks old. Uh,” Sam skimmed the letter as he read it out loud. “‘Dearest Betsy, third day of training camp. Roadwork improving. Working on my left jab. They say this kid Sugar Ray is gonna be tough.” 

“Sugar Ray? As in Robinson? Didn’t he box in, like, the forties?” Dean asked. You shrugged your shoulders as you grabbed the letter from Sam to examine it for a brief moment before you grabbed another letter from the pile to notice any key similarities. The handwriting was the same from the rest of the letters you had been reading. “Is it signed the same?”

“Yeah. ‘Love, me.’” You said.

“Here.” Dean decided to read another letter out loud for you and his brother to hear. “'Dearest Betsy, on the road again. So hard to be away from you, honey. Will give the red sox hell and get back to you.’"

“’Dearest Betsy…’”

“'Dearest Betsy, Le Mans will be a bitch this year with all the rain…’”

“’…the Phillies are tough, but we’re looking to be tougher…’”

“’…them Dodgers will wish they never left Brooklyn…’”

You and the boys must have read dozens upon dozens of letters written to Betsey and signed the same way. All of them were about sports and their progress, and how much they missed Betsy. You noticed some of the letters were written on hotel stationary from all around the country, some on a piece of blank paper. It seemed whoever this person could get their hands onto so they could write to their favorite girl. While reading through these letters were romantic, you still needed to find out who wrote these. All of these could have dated back to the forties from the mention of names and events that already happened. However not all of them were romantic, the last one you read shined a light on the grim ending to the love story.

“Wait. This one looks recent.” You said. You skimmed through the letter as you read out the beginning part of the letter for the boys to hear. “‘Dearest Betsy. So tired of it all.’”

You placed the letter down to the table and looked at the brothers, knowing well enough from the sounds of the letter it was a goodbye for Betsy. You bit the inside of your cheek as you realized enough that Brick had to be the one who wrote this letter. And the others that were spread all over the table. The question remained, how was this possible?

\+ + +

You and the boys headed back to the motel with the letters to see what other kind of research you could complete in order to figure out what was going on. You worked diligently on your laptop doing research as the boys went through the letters again, compiling what information they could gather. The beauty before the internet and a constant eye on everyone famous was that nobody could track who you were. Be someone famous for a while before disappearing and coming out from the shadows as someone else decades later when the public forgot about you.

“Hey. I pulled up the names on those trophies. In the words of Sammy, check this out.” You said. Both of the boys headed over to the table and loomed over your shoulder to see what you found. You pulled up each photograph of the athlete you had found. “All right, Brick Holmes—football player. Charlie Karnes—race-car driver. David Samuelson—baseball player. Kelly Duran—boxer. Four different guys, right? Except…” You hit a button on the keyboard, pulling up the four photographs for them to examine. “Same dark eyes, same cheekbones, nose, mouth.”

“Wait, are you saying these four guys who all look to be in their mid-twenties and go back seventy years could be the same guy?” Dean asked from what you were speculating here. You looked over your shoulder at him and shrugged your shoulders. The similarities were haunting, and it correlated with the letters. “Wow. For a ninety-five year old, Brick Holmes could take a hit.”

“So, if all those athletes were the same guy, how’d he pull it off?” Sam wondered. He went back to the bed to finish going through the letters as his brother pulled out their father’s journal for some help. “Appear, then go away and come back with a new look?”

“Cacao, the, uh, the—the maize God—was Mayan, right?” Dean asked. You nodded your head as you draped an arm over the chair you were sitting in, curious as to what he was going with this. “The Maya were all about war and torture and conquest…and sports. It says, ‘Their athletes were treated like kings.’ The Mayan jocks made sacrifices to Cacao by—ready for this?—killing a victim, pulling out his heart, and eating it. They believed the rituals gave them super-charged power over their opponents.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t stay young forever.” Sam said. “So, what? Maybe Brick just made some kind of deal with this Cacao?”

“Well, we’ve seen it before—people making deals with demons, gods. I mean, maybe he stayed young and strong so long as the sacrifices kept coming.” You said. People would do a lot of stupid things to get what they wanted. Even if it meant hurting innocent bystanders. You knew that one a little too well. And some people loved fame so much they couldn’t let go of the past and their accomplishments. “Remember all that antique sports equipment he had? This guy could go back to the Mayan days.”

 

"Wow. So,” Sam pushed himself up to his feet as a slight smile began to spread across his lips at how strange this case was turning out to be. “one of the greatest QBs to ever play the game was over nine hundred years old.“

“Well, that explains Brick, but what about the mooks carrying his spare parts?” Dean asked.

“Maybe the spell went along for the ride and infected the people who got his organs.” Sam said, giving you and his brother a possible theory that sounded like it could work. This spell had to be complete with a heart, it made sense if other organs had been contaminated as well with the heart. “Remember how Paul Hayes said he had a health scare that changed his life? I mean, maybe the spell could compel him to keep carrying out the ritual.”

“Sort of like getting bit by a werewolf.” Dean said. “I mean, once you’re infected, you do what you got to do, especially if you like the results.”

“Right, except old Arthur, the dedicated cop, couldn’t handle it and went nuts.” Sam said. He sat back down on the bed and let out a sigh. “Brick Holmes, a heart eater. Who knew?”

“Yeah, sorry, buddy.” Dean mumbled as he turned his attention back to his father’s journal “The mighty—they fall hard, huh?”

You turned your attention back to your laptop to do a bit more digging on this Kelly Duran since he was the earliest version of Brick you could find. However you stumbled upon something that made sense to a whole lot of things. “Well, at least he wasn’t sleeping with his mother.”

“Yeah, good, Y/N.” Dean said, chuckling at your presumption. “Find the silver lining.”

“What? No, you idiot. Look at this.” You turned your laptop around so the boys could see the black and white photograph of Kelly Duran, the boxer famous in the forties. And with a smiling face that was by his side. ”'Fighter Kelly Duran is congratulated on a second-round knockout by wife Betsy.’ I’m guessing this is 'Dearest Betsy.’ Who you think after all these years would stick by his side?”

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys paid a visit to whom you suspected was in the photograph dated back to the forties. You knocked once again on the door of the Holmes residence and waited for a moment for someone to answer it. Lucky for you, Eleanor was the one who opened the door, not suspecting a single clue the three of you would be back again. And asking all sorts of questions about the man she lead you to believe was her son.

“Hello, Eleanor.” Sam greeted the older woman.

“Or would you rather us call you Betsey?” You asked her.

Eleanor didn’t hesitate inviting the three of you back into her home and into the same room all of you were in yesterday afternoon. The boys took their same seats as you sat down on the couch while Eleanor slowly made her way over to the couch. You could see she was in rather shock at what was going on. She sank down to her seat and looked over at the younger Winchester when he told her about the grim reality she was apart of.

“Look, Eleanor, innocent people are dying.” Sam warned her. “And they’re gonna continue to die until we stop it.”

“Did you know about the murders over the past year?” Dean asked.

Eleanor looked up from her lap and quickly shook her head, protesting her innocence before either one of you could suspect a thing from her. “No. I didn’t. I swear. I thought when—when Brick died, it would be over.”

“Help us.” You begged the woman. You gave her an empathetic expression from how much of a burden she’d been carrying around for all these years. You could tell she had no clue what was going on, but she was the only one could help you. “Betsy, this is not what you want Brick’s legacy to be.”

“His Mayan name was Inyo. He was a proud young athlete nearly a thousand years ago. He lived for sport and never wanted his days in the sun to end. So he arranged a bargain with the god Caco through a high priest.” Eleanor explained to the three of you. Brick did all of this so he could stay young forever. “As long as the sacrifices continued, twice a year—once for the planting, once for harvest.”

“When did you find out about this?” Sam asked.

“Not until I began to age and Brick—Kelly, as he was when I met him—did not. But by that time, Brick himself had changed…inside. He wasn’t just the warrior whose only reason for living was combat. We were deeply, deeply in love.” Eleanor said. “So in love, I’m ashamed to say, that when I found out that how my husband stayed young and strong, I chose to ignore it.”

“You and Brick had to go underground from time to time to hide your secret, right?” You wondered.

“Every ten years or so, he would re-emerge with a new look, a new name. And me, I was the wife, and I was the woman in hiding, and then when I got into my forties, I became Brick’s mother. Eleanor.” She continued on. You could see Eleanor smile slightly at how terrible it sounded when she spoke it out loud. However you watched as her smile faded as she confessed to how she really felt. “I am so tired. You can’t imagine the burden of it all. I think even Brick was through. He could see the end of my days were at hand, and…he lived centuries all alone, but I don’t think he could bear the thought of life without me. That’s why he drove off that bridge. You must think I’m a monster.”

“No. No, just that you married one.” Dean said, being blunt with the truth. Eleanor didn’t have any blood on her hands, and from the remorse she was admitting to, she seemed like a reliable person to help you stop all of these murders before someone else could get hurt. “Well, see, here’s the deal. Now there are eight killers out there that we have to deal with, not just one.”

“I don’t think so.” Eleanor said in a matter-of-fact kind of voice.

You furrowed your brow, “What? Why not?”

“Brick used to say the heart was key.” She said. “That was the focus of the sacrifice.”

“Are you saying that if we stop Brick’s beating heart, then we could stop the whole thing?” You asked the woman, wondering if that’s what she meant. Eleanor nodded her head. “Do you know where the person is who has the heart?”

\+ + +

You weren’t exactly sure where you would find Brick Holmes’ nine hundred year old heart. Your best guess for whoever inherited the organ had to follow in his footsteps, at least go for something that made them feel powerful and strong. But it seemed you were thrown a curve ball. Eleanor told you and the boys the place where you would find the woman who was given Brick’s heart. She apparently worked at a joint called “The Bunny Hole Club.” It wasn’t too hard to guess from the pin up girls on the front that it was a strip club. The Impala pulled up to the spot as Dean parked across the street from the joint.

“Really?” Dean asked, finding himself in a bit of disbelief at what was happening here. “Our king daddy monster is a stripper?”

“We’re pretty sure this is gonna work, right?” You wondered. You felt all of this was a little too good to be true from how easy all of this seemed. Most of the time killing monsters required some extra effort in gather supplies and what not. Not a knife to the heart. Of course, you still had to find this Randa, and plunge a knife into her chest. But you were sure it wouldn’t be too hard to get up close and person with the woman.

“Well, as long as Eleanor knows what she’s talking about.” Dean reached behind the backseat with his arm to grab the duffel bag he filled with some supplies the three of you might need. He pulled out a large hunting knife and handed it over to his brother for safekeeping.

“You think Brick thought maybe he’d burn to nothing when he crashed that car?” Sam asked a question that made you stop and think for a moment.

Brick seemed like he was really at the end of the road with wanting to live his life. He had a long run, but he got something he never had in his entire life, and that was true love. But when he knew that Eleanor didn’t have much time left, he didn’t want to see the woman who had brought him happiness for so many decades to die. So he must have decided that he was ready to call it quits before he could see her pass away to old age. He tried to destroy the very thing that had brought him fame and fortune, but it didn’t mean his attempts were a success.

“Yeah, but he didn’t, which brings us here.” Dean said. 

You let out a sigh from the mess you were about to clean up so you could put a stop to this. You got out from the Impala and started walking to the club. Turning the corner to the building, the three of you headed to the rear entrance of the club where there was nobody around. While Dean picked the lock, you and Sam were on the lookout for any possible people that might accidentally stumble upon you breaking and entering. You reached a hand inside your pocket for your flashlight when Dean managed to unlock the door and grant all of you access to a poorly lit building.

You followed behind the boys as they made their way upstairs to the floor level of the building and to what appeared to be the locker room. You flashed your light around the room to see it wasn’t that glamorous like you thought it would be. It was sort of run down looking like the rest of the place. Dean found himself smiling as he took in a deep breath. You looked over at him with a grimacing expression from what you heard him say next.

“Smell that?” Dean asked.

“You’re disgusting.” You muttered to him, rolling your eyes when he continued to smile.

The three of you headed out of the locker room and walked up another set of stairs before you got to the main room of the club. You looked around the place to see that it was what you expected a joint like this to be. There wasn’t much out of the ordinary with two stages on each side of the room and tables spread around the place to enjoy the entertainment. You still couldn’t see much without the flashlight as you continued to look around the place, wondering where this Randa woman was. You and the boys were on the search to find her, but you didn’t consider she might have been looking for you as well.

The lights in the club suddenly came on without warning, making you stop in your tracks. You looked around the club to see who was responsible for that. Slowly your attention was drawn over to the stage when you saw a shadowy figure walk across the curtain. You heard what sounded to be heels clicking against the stage floor as you put your flashlight away, having a feeling you weren’t going to be needing it. You felt the outline of the knife you were hiding in the waistband of your jeans as a woman stepped out from behind the curtain. You suspected she was Randa, the one you were looking for. It seemed she found you as well.

“Eleanor sent you, right? I figured she’d probably break and give me up. This won’t end well for her, of course. Not that it’s gonna end well for you.” Randa was feeling the effects of Brick’s heart all right. She seemed all little too arrogant for a woman who was about to die. You narrowed your eyes on her as she approached the pole to lightly graze her fingers down it. Sam pulled out the knife from his jacket pocket, showing her all of you came prepared. Randa smiled, seeming not the least bit intimidated. “Oh, now, you don’t think we’re gonna let you do that, do you?”

“‘We’?” You repeated after the woman.

You should have really took into consideration she wouldn’t have shown up here outnumbered to all of you. Before you realized what was going on, you felt a grip around your arms and the ground underneath your feet disappearing. You felt yourself flying across the room and landing into a table, a few very uncomfortable chairs broke your fall. While you didn’t make it to a very far distance, the blow was enough to keep you down until the pain slowly subsided.

Sam was taken by surprise when he felt a chair being broken over his body and shoved into the metal railing. Dean attempted to win the fight when he drew out his gun and pointed it at none other than Paul Hayes, but it seemed the man was faster than Dean. Paul managed to throw a sucker punch hard enough to make Dean stumble backwards into another body. Little did he realize it was the latest victim that went missing. It was Jimmy Tong from Phoenix, and he was all sorts of a dick like the rest of the group. Paul and Jimmy managed to throw Dean onto the stage, and before the hunter could fight his way out of this one, they held him down.

“Oh, you guys are stronger than you look.” Dean said, knowing this was gonna be a tough one to get himself out of.

“Comes with the package.” Paul said. “Plus, I work out a lot.”

Dean wasn’t all too impressed with the guy’s excuse as he still tried his hardest to get out of this one before he could have his heart ripped out of his chest. Randa walked over to the hunter until she was standing over him. She was riding all sorts of highs from the power she was feeling right now. And she didn’t ever want it to end. “You can’t imagine who I was before. This shy, awkward little thing from Georgia with a heart condition. Then I had the surgery. I became freaking Xena, Warrior Princess”

She placed her heel clad foot on Dean’s chest, making the spiked heel press into his flesh. But it didn’t last for too long, Randa pushed herself down so she was now straddling him at his waist. “I couldn’t dissect a frog in high school. But sacrificing to Cacao? Better than sex.” Randa took it upon herself to make Dean feel uncomfortable as possible. He grimaced underneath her touch as she stroked her hand with his face, enjoying the sight of his displeasure. She then pulled aside Dean’s button up shirt, making his t-shirt the only layer covering the skin to where his still beating heart was. “So, if I go real slow and take my time and enjoy this,” Randa lightly traced a finger down his chest in an S pattern. “I can actually show you your own beating heart before you die.”

Dean could feel the woman’s fingers suddenly digging into his flesh, hard enough to break the skin, keeping promise to her word. But she wouldn’t get very far if you and Dean had anything to say about it. Sam took Paul by surprise, smashing a bottle over his head as you raced up to the stage, pulling out your knife before Randa could try and take another life. You plunged the knife straight into her stomach and quickly backed away from what was about to happen. Randa let out a gasp at the sudden rush of pain you inflicted on her.

Randa stumbled up to her feet as she glanced down at her stomach where the knife remained. You noticed her eyes were glowing red, and the stab wound was burning in red flames. You had to take a wild guess that it was working. Randa took a little more time to take down. She let out a moan as she continued to burn for a moment or so longer before the red light faded, and just like the rest, she dropped dead to the ground.

“Well, I’ll say that was a moderate success.” You said. You looked over at the boys from the accomplishment all of you achieved. However it seemed you must have sustained a minor concussion from the sudden throbbing in the side of your head. You moved your gaze to the ground to see Dean was still lying there. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean rubbed a hand across his chest where just not that long ago Randa’s fingernails were digging into his skin. He felt the indents of her nails and the blood from the skin she broke. “I’ll have to back to you on that one, sweetheart.”

\+ + +

Before you and the boys headed back to the motel to pack up your belongings and hit the road again, you made a stop to the Holmes’ residence to tell Eleanor the good news. She seemed relieved at the resolved matter while the four of you discussed her calm future over coffee. Much as you were happy to give the woman a piece of mind that all of this was over, there was still a lot the three of you needed to do before you went on your way to the next town and case to solve. You placed your empty coffee cup on the island and gave Eleanor a smile.

“Well, we’d better get going.” You said. “We just wanted you to know that it really is over now.”

“Well, it had to be, one way or another. I half thought you might fail and Randa would come after me.” Eleanor admitted. You found yourself looking at her with a bit of an offended glance from how she doubted you. But she meant it in a completely different way. “Either way, I’d finally be at peace.” 

You found yourself letting out a soft chuckle from her way of thinking. You thought this was the best outcome for everyone, including herself. Brick could finally be at peace after what you stopped, and Eleanor could spend the rest of her days in comfort knowing everything was finally over. “You take care of yourself, Eleanor.”

You gave the woman a parting smile before you and the boys showed yourselves out. You had to admit being back in business felt good. You didn’t know the last time you had an actual win. Sure things with Kevin were still a mess with him missing, Sam and Dean were unagreeable about the future and Cas was still in purgatory. But you refused to think about that right. All you wanted to do was bask in the glory of a win, the future and its problem would still be there for you and eagerly waiting tomorrow.

\+ + +

“Take off your shirt.”

Dean was in the middle of messily folding a pair of jeans and shoving them into the duffel bag when he heard your voice. He looked up to see that you were standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a bottle of peroxide in one hand and gauze in the other. You always kept a small first aid kit on hand for emergencies when one of you got hurt. Dean didn’t understand why you had pulled it out, he didn’t think he got hurt too much to require attention. However he found himself annoying you by giving you a sarcastic remark that made you roll your eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first, sweetheart?” His question prompted you to let out a scoff as you walked over to him.

“You wish. I want to take a look at the claw marks that bitch left.” You told him, placing the bottle and gauze down on the nightstand. “Make sure they’re not too deep and clean them up so you don’t get an infection.”

“You sure this isn’t an excuse to see me without a shirt? I mean, it has been a while.” Dean said. You shook your head from his horrible sense of humor that you had to admit you missed dearly. Dean finally did what he was told, slipping off his shirt with the blood stains on the fabric. You winced slightly at the marks on his skin and reached for the bottle and gauze. “Feels good to be back in the swing of things, huh?”

“You have no idea. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed hunting and having my life constantly be put in danger…Now, this is gonna sting.” You warned the older man as you pressed the soaked gauze in peroxide to part of his wound, softly wiping away dried blood and cleaning up the marks that would start to heal in the next few days. Dean hissed quietly underneath his breath from the first initial sting, but fell silent again when the pain subsided as a comfortable silence fell between the both of you. You worked on cleaning his wound and hearing to see if Sam had come back from the supply run in town he wanted to make before all of you left. “Hey, Dean? Can I ask you a random question?”

“Shoot, sweetheart.” Dean mumbled, unaware of the conversation you were about to start with him. You inhaled a deep breath and continued working on cleaning up his wound. You didn’t hesitate on the matter, you just came right out with the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the past day and a half.

“When Sam mentioned a case the both of you worked on while I was gone with the Amazons, why did you not want to talk about it? You’ve been pretty vocal about everything else.” You told him what you were eager to discuss. You and Dean made a promise to each other that the both of you would always tell the truth, no matter how awful it was. You stopped working for a moment and looked up at Dean when he didn’t answer you. He was awfully silent. If Dean really wanted to, he could lie straight through his teeth. It seemed he wanted to tell you, but he was hesitant. Almost guilty. “Dean, did something happen? Did…”

“I did something stupid.” Dean muttered the first part of the truth underneath his breath. But he didn’t make eye contact with you. You furrowed your brow from how he was behaving, choosing to look down at his lap instead of straight at you. Which only made you nervous.

“Dean, you do a lot of stupid things. That’s why I love you.” You tried to lighten the mood from what you said, but it seemed you only made things worse when Dean suddenly looked even more guilty. You let out a sigh and sat straight up, becoming more serious. You pressed harder for answers as you tried to give him some sort of direction to jump off of so he didn’t have to directly say it. “Did someone we know accidentally sleep with one of them? Did Sam?”

You urged the older Winchester to speak up and tell you the truth, at least drop a hint. He looked up at you after you gave him a few possible suspects. You got your answer from the way he was suddenly staring at you. He only looked at you one other time, when he admitted to doing horrible things to you in hell years ago. “Oh…Oh.” It didn’t take many clues for you to realize that the reason why Dean didn’t want to talk about the case was because it was him who made an accidental mistake.

Dean reached out for your hand, thinking you were going to bolt out of the room before you spit in his face for what he did. But you remained as you were. You had no intentions of leaving him, not ever. “It was a mistake. It was supposed to be a random hookup…I didn’t know.” Dean admitted the truth fast as he possibly could, wanting to get the story straight. “I did it because I missed you. I was lonely. And I was stupid. So freaking stupid.”

You wondered why he was beating himself up so much about hooking up with a random woman that turned out to be a monster. It was an honest mistake. From what you read up about them, they posed as normal human beings to fool the naked eye. But you quickly realized there was more to this than just a hookup. He accidentally got her pregnant as well. Which meant his child was one of them. "What was her name?”

“Emma.” Dean answered you in a quiet voice.

“What happened to her?” You forced yourself to ask.

“Sam did the right thing by killing her.” Dean said. You nodded your head slowly as you began to process the story. It was your turn to fall silent as you stared off into space for a moment with your own personal thoughts. “If you’re mad at me, you have every right to be.”

“Dean, do you know how many years I’ve had to spend seeing all sorts of women walk in and out of your motel room? Too many.” You said, cracking a smile as you tried to add some humor to try and make him feel better. “I’m not angry at what you did. Don’t forget I was married for that time. And you thought I was dead. The most important thing is that we’re back together. And long as I’m alive and around, I better be the only girl you’re thinking about.”

“Sweetheart, even when you were gone you were still on my mind. Thinking about how much I missed you…“ Dean whispered as he smoothly managed to pull you up to your feet before placing his hands on your waist to sit you down on his lap. You smiled at his sudden shift in behavior as you wrapped your arms around his chest as you felt one hand remain on your waist as the other slipped into your shirt, letting his calloused fingers brush across your skin. "Missed touching you.”

“I’ll let this little incident slide this time, but if you ever sleep with another woman while we’re together, I’ll torture you in ways that will make you wish you were in hell again.” You warned him in the absolute sweetest voice as you hit somewhere that was still a sensitive topic to Dean to this very day. But Dean knew that you would keep true to his word. He promised that he’d be on his best behavior as his eyes drifted to your lips that were growing closer as he leaned forward. You happily kissed him as you shut your eyes, enjoying the moment together and feeling his hands on your body. As the kiss grew deeper, you felt Dean’s hand underneath your shirt slowly inch upward. Before he could make use of the rare private time, you suddenly pulled away. “Do you think you would ever want that?”

“What?” Dean asked, wondering what you meant by that.

“I don’t know…to have a family, I guess.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

You didn’t know where all of this was coming from. Never in your life had you expressed your longing to have children, especially not to Dean. You weren’t opposed to the idea of having a child. A small little human you and Dean created together to raise. Part of you wondered what it would be like to be able to provide a child with a somewhat normal life, to be able to raise them in a way that your parents never could. Dean had expressed his idea once long ago, when he thought he wanted to have a normal life and settle down. Maybe he would have been eager to do if you did things differently after you got out of hell.

But Dean suddenly looked at you with a look of apprehensiveness from what you talking about. Right when you were about to have a moment, you ruined it by opening your big, fat mouth. And you kept going. “I mean, I know what happened to our parents—and what went wrong. It’s dangerous, especially for people like us. I guess…I guess I just wondered what would it be like if something happened.”

Dean suddenly felt his heart pound in his chest from how the conversation was turning into as you brought up a topic out of the blue. You never discussed things with him like this. He wondered if you were. Could you be? He tried to figure out how long the both of you had been back together. Not too long…But still. He didn’t know how these sort of things worked. Well, he knew. But it wasn’t the right time for this. (Was it ever?)

All Dean could think about was what might happen if you were really carrying. What happened if you got hurt on a hunt? What if he accidentally got into one of his trances and hurt you? He suddenly remembered the events leading up to your fake death and when your demon side was still alive. How the bitch taunted him with the idea that you were carrying his child.

“All you’re good at is slicing throats and watching the people you love die bloody. Kind of fitting the mother of your child is gonna go the same way.”

“I’m not pregnant, Dean.” You broke the man out of his personal thoughts, giving him the truth to settle his worrying mind from jumping to the worst case scenario. “I’m just saying. I mean, but if I was…”

“Then we would deal with it.” Dean said. “Any way you would want.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not opposed to the idea of having children. Not right now, at least. With all of this hell business going on. Maybe we could think about it when we finish closing the gates of hell.” You said. “I’m just saying, this baby would need a family. Especially an Uncle Sammy who could take him or her on the weekends with Amelia.”

“Y/N,” Dean muttered your name underneath you breath from how this conversation was drifting to a topic he he didn’t want to talk about, let alone think. “Do we really have to do this now?”

"Why was it okay for you to want a normal life and not for Sam?” You questioned him.

“Because I know how all of this works. And it doesn’t end well for anybody involved. I’m trying to protect him from getting hurt.” Dean admitted to you. Your expression slowly softened from what he was subtly hinting around. You looked away from him as you let out a sigh. He quickly reached a hand up to place it on your cheek so he could turn your head to look back at him. “Let’s not do this now. Okay? Enjoy the moment, sweetheart.”

You were going to, because you weren’t sure when the both of you were going to get another one like this. You pressed your lips against his again as the both of you got back into the swing of things right before you veered the conversation to a strange topic. You didn’t know the last time you and him had an intimate moment together that wasn’t just a quickie in between jobs. But it was how you learned the hunting life could be. It was a drab on your sex life at times. But you had a feeling from the way Dean was kissing you that he wanted to take things slow tonight. If you and him spent a little longer than you expected, so be it. All Dean wanted to do was enjoy this moment with you.

\+ + +

You and the boys were back on the road a couple hours later. Sam wasn’t exactly happy with the delay in plans, but he sort of got the hint what took so long when you came out of the motel room attempting to cover up somewhat noticeable hickey just underneath your collarbone as Dean trailed behind, a slight smirk on his lips. His brother rolled his eyes from how the both of you could be. You were like a bunch of teenagers. All of you got into the Impala and finally hit the road to the next town.

You were quiet in the backseat as you stared off into the darkness of the night, content with how things turned out. Of course you were happy. You got a happy ending and then some. Dean was in the front seat as Sam was in the passenger’s side, not have said a single word since all of you left. You didn’t pay much attention to Sam’s melancholy attitude. Right now you wanted to focus on the fading tingling situation from the time you spent with Dean and the high from the win you got from the hunt. Things would be the same as they were tonight.

“Wow. Back in business. Got the win. Admit it—feels good, huh?” Dean spoke up, breaking the silence between all of you as he basked in the glory of the first win the three of you had since being reunited back together. He looked over at his brother to see Sam didn’t show too much enthusiasm. “You know, I was thinking about what Randa said about, uh, you know, what it feels like to be a warrior. I get it, man, I do.”

“I know. I know you do. I don’t.“ Sam responded. You slowly drew your gaze away from the window and to the younger man who sat in front of you. Here you go again. "Not anymore. Hell, maybe I never did.”

“Come on, Sam, don’t ruin my buzz, would you?” Dean asked his brother, hoping the both of them could avoid this argument for once tonight.

“Dean, listen, when this is over—when we close up shop on Kevin and the tablet—I’m done. I mean that.” Sam told his brother the honest truth of how things were going to be. Dean quietly scoffed as he told his little brother that he wasn’t going to. You sat with your lips pressed shut, not wanting to get in the middle of this. “Dean, the year that I took off, I had something I’ve never had. A normal life. I mean, I got to see what that felt like. I want that. I had that.”

“I think that’s just how you feel right now.” Dean said, brushing off of this talk as it was just something his brother hadn’t been thinking about for the past several weeks since all of you were back. Sam wanted a normal life once before, but it didn’t work out. He swore that he would never go back.

And yet here all of you were. You weren’t sure whose side you were on anymore. You would always stick with whatever choice Sam would make, along with Dean. If Dean wanted to keep on hunting, you would be right by his side. If Sam wanted to quit hunting and live his happy, normal life with this Amelia woman, you’d wish him nothing but the best. But you knew this decision would split the boys down the middle.

You let out a quiet sigh as you leaned back in your seat as you placed your hand on your stomach to rest for the meantime. You just wish there was something you could do to make the boys stay together as a family with you no matter what they decided to do. You knew they needed something that would keep their mutual happiness a new beginning for them to spark the bond between them that seemed like it disappeared after you left.


	4. Blood Brother.

The trail to finding Kevin Tran and his mother was growing colder with each lead you and the boys tried to take. You did everything you could to try and get even one step closer to them, but no matter what, you were always left in the dust. You hadn’t heard much from Josh over the past two weeks since setting up the system to try and track Kevin easier. Yet, even with your brain and Josh’s combined, the little brat still outsmarted you. But you weren’t giving up hope. He was out there somewhere in this country, you were going to get your hands on him before Crowley could. No matter what you had to do.

Much as you wanted to track down the Tran family, you still had personal necessities of your own to keep track of like eating and sleeping in between scouring each state Kevin checked into. Not to mention trying to find any other sort of path to where Kevin was heading next.

You were leaning against the back of the Impala finishing up the breakfast you bought after stopping by a coffee shop for some caffeine and a slightly stale tasting muffin. You mindlessly picked at the food between sips of your drink, staring at the sight around you while the boys finished packing before you could hit the road again. You found yourself looking over at the little playground that was just across from the motel that was being occupied by a few moms on a play date with their three-year-olds as they burned off energy as the moms talked among themselves. You smiled slightly at the sight of the two kids giggling and enjoying themselves on this sunny morning, but your focus fell over to a family with a baby in a stroller.

It was obvious to tell from the couples’ body language they were married from how the man had his arm lightly wrapped around his wife’s waist as she stood close to him in his embrace. The both of them seemed so happy, so in love. Another woman was standing across from them with a smile of her own on her lips as she talked to the couple. She glanced down ever so often to the baby in the stroller and smiled, cooing and making funny faces when she did. You guessed the baby responded with a smile from how her face lit up. You squinted slightly as you tried to read their lips to see what the conversation was about.

Mostly what you could get was a lot of thank yous from the mother as she looked over at her husband every so often before back at the other woman. The three of them talked for another moment or so until the couple handed over a diaper bag to the woman and parted with a hug and a dozen or so “I love yous” to the baby. You watched as the woman made her way to the parking lot where you stood while pushing the baby stroller. She looked down at the baby and smiled as she talked again, but this time, you could hear her as she went to car to load up the belongings she would need for the duration of the baby’s stay.

“It’s just gonna be you and me this weekend. You excited to stay with your aunt, huh?” She spoke to the baby as she popped open the trunk. You saw a smile spread across her face when the baby broke out into a toothless smile of its own. “Yeah. I bet you are.”

You found yourself growing a smile of your own at the sight of the woman talking to her baby niece or nephew about the plans for the weekend. Sure, it was a cute sight to see, but you found a bit of envy creeping out of you from nowhere. You continued to drink your coffee as you began to think about how Amelia and Sam would be like with a baby. You and Dean taking a hunt together, your child staying with their Uncle Sammy and Aunt Amelia, both of them smiling and cooing at the child that saved the Winchester family from falling apart. A little piece of happiness for Dean to realize that life gets better, he had a chance to bring another Winchester in the world that he could raise and treat right. He could be a father in ways John never was to him.

But you knew it would never happen. It was all talk to make yourself feel a little less lonely. You loved hunting with all of your heart, you wanted to do it until the day you died, but there was another part of you that wanted something else. A chance to leave something behind after you died. Someone who could keep the Y/L/N/Winchester bloodline going for another generation.

Ever since you were little you wanted kids and to be married. It was drilled into your head by society and your own mother that it was what every girl wanted. For a while you decided that it wasn’t for you. Being a hunter made you think that it wasn’t possible. Your life was always on a line. Even kids get dragged into this mess against their will. But you knew what your parents did to mess things up. You wouldn’t sell your soul to have one like your mother did, and you sure as hell wouldn’t agree to let a demon do something years in advance. Yet you knew it would only remain as a daydream to you.

Once hell was locked up for good Sam would be out of here for good and back to Amelia. You were starting to miss having a home, a place where you could go back to after a rough hunt and rest your head on a bed that was familiar to you. You’d probably continue hunting for another few more years and try to save a few more lives. Maybe you would go back home and become like Bobby, back to the nonstop research and house that was probably covered in inches of dust at this point. Dean would…well, you weren’t sure where he would end up.

Dean had been worrying you more lately. Ever since he got back from purgatory he had been acting different from what you remembered. It was even worse than when he got back from hell. He was always on edge, he picked fights with his brothers at the most random of times. And the nightmares he would deny in the morning. Something happened in there he refused to tell you. And you doubt he ever would.

Meanwhile in the motel Dean packed up the last of his belongings and Sam was in the bathroom still collecting toiletries. He threw his last shirt into the bag when he looked out the window and spotted the same sight you were staring at the same sight. A slight smile tugged at the ends of his lips when he caught sight of a woman who was trying to get a baby into her car, mouth moving a she talked to the child who couldn’t understand a single word she was saying. Dean, too, found himself being reminded of a conversation the both of you had a few weeks ago. About having children, that was.

It didn’t really cross Dean’s mind about having a kid of his own. For a short while he wanted to have a family, a white picket fence with a yard and all that crap. He got that for a while..until it all blew up in his face. He tried to achieve his own with Lisa Braden and her son, Ben. But it wasn’t what he really wanted. The closet thing he got to his fantasy was back when he was roped into hunting by you and his brother when the both of you found the shifter baby him and Sam named Bobby John after his real parents were murdered by his biological father.

Dean didn’t think much about what all of you were going to do with the baby until some stupid lie came rolling out of his mouth, something about being adopted parents to the kid. He liked the idea of that. Being parents together. And when it came to figuring out what to do with Bobby John, you were all set to raise the child on your own. But Dean would have left Lisa just to make sure you and Bobby John were okay. What if the Alpha never got his hands on the baby? Bobby John would have been a little over two years old by now, probably going on three. Talking and walking. Changing into all sorts of different people. He would be a shifter his entire life, but he would have been your kid. To raise and do good.

Dean still found himself wondering what it would be like to have a kid of his own. What would they grow up to be like? How many of them would the both of you have? One seemed sort of lonely. And three felt like it would be too much to handle. Two felt like a good number to stop at. If something happened to all of you, your kids would have each other to count on. Dean found himself looking away from the window and to his little brother for a moment. Much as they fought and bickered since being reunited, Dean really only wanted what was best for Sam. Dean imagined what his brother’s reaction would be if you told him the news he was going to be called Uncle Sammy from now on.

Now that he wanted out of hunting for good, Dean supposed that he might be supportive about the idea. It might push him towards that route for good, despite Dean wanting to have him where he could see him. And yeah, he wouldn’t admit it right away, but he was still angry over the fact that Sam just up and left for a year, leaving Dean to find a way out of purgatory. Much as all of you wanted to run away from your problems, you couldn’t. They always find a way to come back and bite you in the ass tenfold.

\+ + +

You swore you were at least closer to finding Kevin a few states back, and now you were feeling like you were going to catch the kid by surprise. Josh had given you and the boys two motels three separate states away from each other where Kevin had been active with the fake credit cards he’d been using. You were always left in the dust whenever you tried to track down his lead, but not this time time. You weren’t going to be outsmarted again for the second time. This past week had been stressful enough, and with Kevin still missing along with other things, you were being pushed to your breaking point. 

You and the boys found the motel room you were expecting to find the kind, holed up in the place and taken off guard when you found him with his mother. Maybe even at least there was a chance he was out and you could catch him by surprise with you and the boys waiting for him. But when Dean opened up the motel room door and you bolted inside, you should have known better than to get your hopes up like this. The entire room was empty. Not even a trace of someone even stepping foot into this room could be found. Another lead turned into a dead end. 

“Well, that is twice that he’s burned us.” Dean said, standing in the middle of the motel with annoyance at how things were turning out. He turned his gaze over to his little brother who stepped out from the empty bathroom after scouring every inch of the small room to see if he could figure out if Kevin was even here at all. “Shame on you.”

“No, no, no, no.” Sam argued with his brother from what he was trying to do. He wasn’t going to take the blame for being set up again. “I’m the one who said he set us up.”

“No, you said, ‘I wonder if Kevin is setting us up,’ and then Y/N started in with all the techno babble.” Dean said. “That was like two states ago.”

You tried your hardest to keep your focus on the conversation, but you felt yourself drifting as you inhaled a deep breath from the ache in your chest and the subtle ache in your side that showed up an hour after you got into town. Over the past week and a half you’ve been showing symptoms you were about to start your next cycle, but there was nothing yet. Not even a drop of blood. You weren’t exactly late to make yourself panic. It was probably stress of finding Kevin and the boys that was making it out of whack.

“Yeah, well, whatever. Either way, that’s another room billed to one of Kevin’s false credit IDs.” Sam spoke up once again, making you break out of your own personal thoughts. You crossed your arms over your chest as he sat himself down on one of the motel beds and pulled out his phone. “And the motel ran his number today.”

“Just like he actually checked in?” Dean wondered as he set his sights on the locked mini fridge. He was now on his knees picking the thing open to get something to drink. You answered his question with a mumbled yes as you sat yourself down on the empty bed next to Sam’s. “Kid’s like Rain Man. He’s like a crappy little credit-card-counting criminal prodigy Rain Man.”

“Well, he was in advance placement.” Sam told his brother.

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled. You shook your head when Dean offered you a beer, leaving him to hand over yours to his brother, who gladly grabbed it. Sam needed a drink more than ever from what was happening. “When’s that little idiot gonna stop running from us?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I mean,” Sam brought up a point that was part of the reason why Kevin was on the run in the first place. You shut your eyes in frustration, and when the pain trickled up to your head. “You did try to kill his mother.”

“I was trying to kill Crowley, okay?” Dean defended himself. You and Sam didn’t exactly see eye to eye about the older man’s way of thinking from what he did. You had to admit there was a few other ways Dean could have done handled the situation. “Who happened to be wearing Kevin’s mother at the time. There’s a difference!”

“Apparently not to Kevin. Oh, I know. Maybe because—Oh, yeah,” Sam pretended to think for a moment about why the kid acted out the way he did to prove his brother wrong. “It’s his mother.”

“Okay. The both of you need to shut up.“ You jumped into the conversation before Dean could keep this going any longer. You looked over at the older Winchester and pointed a finger at him, scolding him like a small child. "Sam’s right. You could’ve handled the situation differently. I know you just got back from purgatory and you’re on edge, but Dean…you gotta take it down a few notches. You can’t kill whoever you see anymore.”

Dean couldn’t help himself when he gave you a glare from choosing Sam’s side over his, but you weren’t done yet. You looked over at the younger Winchester and let him have the slightest scolding you were dying to give him. "And it wouldn’t have hurt you to have taken a day to find someone who could have watched Kevin before you skipped out. God, how did you two idiots survive that year without me?”

Sam ignored what you said and turned his attention back to the phone he pulled out. Dean’s attention was cut off from the conversation when his own phone began to start ringing. You rolled your eyes, bitterly thinking to yourself about how technology was a nuance at times. Dean answered the call after a few rings and tried to hear whoever was on the other line. When he heard a familiar voice from the other line he didn’t expect to contact him so soon, he paused the conversation, mentioning something about the connection not being good enough in the room. He stepped out of the room and to the parking lot for better reception. You furrowed your brow in confusion and pulled out your own phone to see that there was a full set of bars.

When the door was shut and he was a few steps away from the motel, Dean spoke the name of Benny Lafitte, a vampire he spoke to a month ago, back when the both of them decided it was best to cut off contact from one another. However from the sound of Benny, it seemed the vampire got himself in a bit of trouble that required some help from the hunter.

“Hey, Dean. You, um—you got a minute?” Benny spoke on the other line in the same Louisiana accent the older Winchester knew to associate him with, but it sounded different tonight. The vampire let out a few heavy breaths before coming to the reason why he called in the first place. “Afraid I messed up, Buddy.”

“What did you do?” Dean questioned the vampire, fearing the worst.

Benny let out a weak sounding chuckle, “No, man, not like that.”

You sat on the bed for a few moments as Sam got himself comfortable in the motel while his brother was gone. After shrugging off his jacket and heading to the bathroom, you pushed yourself up to your feet and headed to the window when you were alone. You slowly drew back the curtain and peered outside the window to the parking lot, spotting Dean who was across the way and standing next to the Impala. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you wondered who the hell he was talking to. No matter how much the boys told you about the events that took place while you were gone, you still felt like they weren’t telling you the whole story.

“I’m sorry. You took on how many?” Dean repeated back what Benny had told him. He wasn’t sure to be impressed with the vampire for taking so many people down on his own, or call him a dumbass for putting his life in risk like that right after they got back. “Are you crazy?”

“Hey. See, the thing is, my legs—they ain’t working so good. There’s, uh…a fuel barge not too far from where. I’m pretty sure I can make it at a small crawl.” Benny explained the severity of the situation to the hunter. “I was kind of hoping maybe I could ask you for one more favor?”

Benny didn’t have anyone else to call in this time of need. He was alone in this new world he was born into again after spending so many years fighting for survival in that wasteland. Dean knew how many times the vampire had saved his life and the risks he pulled to get him out of purgatory. It would take no less than a day for Dean to find where Benny would hide out in the meantime. It’s what friends would do, so the older Winchester agreed.The only problem was trying to explain it to you and his brother without telling the both of you the real truth about why he had to leave out of the blue.

“And—And what exactly is that supposed to mean,” Sam didn’t have a clear understanding on the excuse his brother was giving him when he slammed down two duffel bags of his. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest and stared at the older man with a familiar confused expression on your face as well. “You’ve got to go?”

“Which words are giving you trouble?” Dean asked his little brother.

“We’re on the case, remember, Dean?” Sam reminded the man in an aggravated tone. “The Winchester/Y/L/N holy grail, ‘shut the gates of hell forever’ case.”

“Sure are. But in order to close the gates of hell, we need our prophet, am I right? So step one— find Kevin Tran. Well, he ain’t here. But he wanted us to be, which means we’re probably as far away from him as he could possibly put us. So step two—find Kevin Tran.“ Dean said. You rolled your eyes from his secrecy to the reason why he was leaving in the first place. Before he left for the road, he made his way over to the mini fridge again to find any sort of snacks he could take. "You mind if I take the toblerone?”

You scoffed from the question as you walked over to the mini fridge and pushed him slightly out of the way, reaching for the chilled candy bar and a bottle of water. If he wasn’t going to tell you why he was leaving, he wasn’t going to get his candy. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you or Sam about what he was doing. You followed behind the boys when Dean started to make his way out to the parked Impala as Sam was right behind his heels.

“Wait. Dean, seriously?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“Hey, the trail is dead, but the room is paid for. You and Nancy Drew have got some research to do, and I got some personal crap I got to take care of.” Dean said, fetching the keys out from his pocket as he gave you and his brother little information as possible. Sam still couldn’t wrap his mind around the personal aspect of this situation the man wouldn’t tell you about. “Did you have a stroke? Vocabulary? Personal, as in my own grown-up personal—I don’t know—crap.”

“Mmm.” You mumbled with a mouth full of food as you pulled out your phone from your pocket, the other hand holding the open candy bar you were currently devouring. You tapped on your screen a few times, pretending to be invested in the conversation, but already putting a plan of yours into action before Dean could hit the road. “Riveting stuff.”

Sam rolled his eyes from your lack of frustration at his brother’s privacy like he was. “Damn it—”

“What, Sam? Last I counted, you took a year off from the job.” Dean said, throwing his brother’s past choices right back into his face to win this argument. “I need a day.”

Dean didn’t wait for you or his brother to try and keep him here, because there was nothing you could say to stop him from helping out a friend. You watched as Dean got in the Impala and drove off out of the parking lot, and soon, out of sight. You waited until the Impala disappeared into the night to make your move. You turned yourself on your heels and began to casually walk around the parking lot, and not to the motel room like Sam suspected. The younger man rolled his eyes, wondering what you were up to now.

“Where the hell are you going?” Sam asked.

“After your brother.” You informed the man. You looked around the parking lot to see that it was abandoned all but the two of you. Sam gave you his infamous bitch face at the situation you were leaving him. Your lips stretched into a smile as you opened up the driver’s side door of the car you broke into. “You might want to get started on research, Sasquatch. You got a lot to do.”

\+ + +

It took almost all night to reach the location of where Benny said he would be. Dean wasn’t exactly thrilled at what kind of trouble the vampire had put himself in, but there had to be a reason why the son of a bitch pulled a stunt like this. He just needed to get the man back up on his two feet and he could be back on his way before you or Sam could find out what was going on. Dean pulled up to a seaside dock where Benny said he would be hiding until he got here.

Dean got out of the Impala and headed to a rusty pickup truck Benny had been riding around in since being back in the real world. He opened up the trunk to see where Benny was hiding his blood supply. The trunk looked like what Dean expected; a sleeping bag and a few pillows, a duffel bag full of Benny’s clothes and a cooler. Dean reached out and grabbed the thing he was searching for. He curiously peeked inside to see Benny kept a good stuck of blood bags he must have stole from a clinic to keep himself from craving the warm stuff.

Dean shook his head and shut the top before the blood bags could grow cold. He grabbed the cooler and proceed to shut the trunk. As he turned around to get started on finding where Benny was hiding out, Dean suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. You stood right in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest and a smile on your lips. Dean let out a frustrated sigh from what you were doing here, you raised your brow in curiosity and titled your head to the side.

“Whatcha doing?”

\+ + +

Dean thought he was the master at keeping a low profile and taking all kinds of shortcuts to try and shake off whomever might try and follow him. He spent his entire life hiding from monsters that wanted to kill him and running from the law after a hunt went wrong years back. Not to mention an incident a year or so back with the leviathans that surfaced his name again. But trying to keep a secret from Y/N Y/L/N? Impossible. Dean should have known better that you always stuck your nose in situations where it didn’t belong. And hearing of his need of a personal day only peeked your interest to know what it was about.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest and an arched brow at the sight of Dean and what he was up to. You continued to stare at him, waiting for his answer. Dean opened his mouth slightly as he tried to ask you who you managed to track him down in the first place. You rolled your eyes in his surprised behavior. Sometimes he forgot about this lovely thing smartphones can do when you pretend to lose them.

“Word of advice, if you want to have a ‘personal’ day, turn off your phone.” You said. Dean tried his hardest not to lose his patience as you turned your gaze away from him and to the cooler he was holding. “What’s in there?”

“None of your business.” Dean answered. You mocked his stern tone of voice when he started to grow impatient with you for some reason. You still kept your attention on the cooler as you still wondered what was in there, and why he was next to some beat up truck. “I told you and Sam I needed a day to myself. I didn’t think it would be that hard for you to understand, Y/N.”

“I guess it is. Because we don’t get personal days when we’ve got a missing prophet and tablet. Now I know you’re not out here to kick back and contemplate where Kevin is. You’ve been acting hella sketchy since you got out of purgatory. Not to mention the two phone calls that you took in privacy.” You said. You took the chance to peek inside the cooler when Dean turned his head the slightest to roll his eyes again and look into the distance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to find, but what you saw made look up at the older Winchester with a sudden disturbed expression. “What the hell, Dean?”

"Look,” Dean put his hand up to stop you from freaking out. “It’s not what you think.”

“Well, okay then. Fill me in on why you’re here in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of blood bags. And why you so desperately needed to take a day off. Maybe I would believe you were donating to the Red Cross, but you’re not AB negative.” You said. Dean fell silent for a moment as he tried to figure out the right way to start off this story. He didn’t have much time and seemed to be in a rush when he looked down at his watch. “I’m waiting.”

Dean wasn’t sure how he was going to explain this situation to you, as being friends with monsters before turned out badly. You got burned before when you put your trust into Ruby, a demon who strung you and Sam along for over a year, was someone you could trust. However she turned out to be a bitch like the rest of her kind. Sam wasn’t in his right state of mind when he befriend a demon, and you only put your trust in her for the younger Winchester’s sake of keeping an eye out on her. Dean just got back from purgatory and his mind was still messed up. He had his doubts on how you were going to handle this. But this was different from the Ruby situation. Dean just hoped you would understand.

You were given the true story about how Dean managed to survive the year in purgatory without dying and found his way back to the real world. It was because him and Cas had a little help from a man named Benny Lafitte who saved Dean’s ass more times than he could count. The both of them made a deal together that Benny would lead Dean to the exit out of purgatory, long as Benny could hitch a ride. You suspected already that Benny wasn’t exactly human, and you guessed that he was a vampire from the blood you caught Dean with. All you wanted to know why this Benny had to see Dean out of the blue, and why he didn’t tell you or Sam about it sooner. Benny had bitten off more than he could chew after being attacked and needed some assistance. But you were left hanging on your last question.

You considered yourself to be a pretty empathetic person that wasn’t quick to judge someone just by what they were. You’ve met some creatures while hunting that weren’t all that bad. And a few you thought were on your side, only to stab you in the back when they got your trust. You proceeded with caution around this Benny guy you were about to meet, but you were always up to help a person in need, no matter what they were. And anyone who saved Dean’s life and got him free out of that hellhole you heard so little about seemed decent in your eyes.

Benny told Dean that he would be hiding out in some fuel barge out of the sun while he waited for the man to come. You and Dean wandered around the place trying to find the vampire, when you stumbled upon a staircase that lead down, you decided it couldn’t hurt to check it out. You made your way down to the bottom of the dimly lit place and began looking around best as you could to find someone. Dean followed behind as you took a few steps deeper into the place to peer down a hall. That’s when you spotted someone lying with their back to the wall and legs stretched out, not looking his best from the blood on his clothes.

“Jeez—Dean, I found him.” You called out to the older Winchester as you began making your way forward to the stranger you had only guessed was Benny Lafitte himself. As you heard the sound of Dean’s footsteps echo off the walls, you crouched down on the ground and lightly placed your hand on the vampire’s shoulder to try and wake him back to consciousness before he could get any worse. “Benny?”

You watched as he moved slightly, giving you some indication that he was in pretty bad shape, but once you got some blood into his system he would be fine. Your lips stretched into a warm smile to greet the man when he noticed the first thing he would see was you. “Man,” Dean found himself taken back at how rough his fellow friend was looking. “You’re not lookin’ good.”

"Up yours.” Benny weakly chuckled, managing to insult the man with what energy he had left. Dean couldn’t find any harm in the jab, it was a sign that Benny wasn’t hurt as he previously thought. He opened up the cooler and got a blood bag for the vampire to drink so he could start to heal himself. You noticed that Benny had a southern drawl from the way he spoke, and you would be lying if you weren’t a sucker for them. “For a second I got real confused thinking I died and gone to heaven from seeing this angelic face.”

“I gotta admit,” You couldn’t help yourself but let your smile grow even more at the cheesy line. It sure was better than being called the infamous nickname of mutt or bitch by a monster. “That’s a new one for me. But I’ll take it.”

“I’m gonna guess that’s the blood loss making you talk like that. Benny, this is Y/N Y/L/N. This is my overly nosy girlfriend.” Dean introduced the both of you while he handed over the blood bag for the vampire to drink so he could start healing himself. “And my hunting partner, too.”

"Wish we could have met on better circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.” You said. “Dean told me about you on the way here.”

"Hopefully only good things. I’m afraid your first impression isn’t in my good graces. It’s seems I landed myself in a bit of trouble.” Benny said. You couldn’t help yourself but chuckle in his polite behavior he carried into the twenty first century. There was something about him that you couldn’t help but like about him. Maybe it was his southern charm. "All the time I spent with Dean, he failed to mention he had a significant other.”

"Yeah. And I wanted to keep it that way.” Dean admitted. You looked over at the man to give him a slightly annoyed look at his secretive behavior as Benny started to drink the blood bag. “But Y/N has a thing for poking her nose in places where it doesn’t belong.“

“What can I say? I’m a curious girl.” You said, defending yourself against the man’s remark. You didn’t think it was all that bad. It saved the boys’ plenty of times when you became too cautious for their own well being. Looking over at the vampire, you gave him another friendly smile in reassurance you weren’t going to do anything stupid to hurt him. “A friend of Dean’s is a friend of mine.”

\+ + +

It was amazing what a handful of blood bags and some time could do for a vampire. You and Dean took Benny somewhere a bit more safer so he could finish up a few more bags to regain back his strength and heal the wounds he gotten during his fight that landed all of you here. It was early into the evening when Benny was on the mend of going back to normal as a vampire could be. You found an empty office not too far from where Benny had been hiding out to give all of you some privacy. Benny excused himself to occupy the bathroom for a little while to freshen himself up and discard the bloodied clothes he arrived in. Not too long later you heard the door open, revealing a much different looking man you had seen from before.

“Wow. You, uh…” Dean spoke up when he saw the vampire headed into the room appearing like he wasn’t fighting for his life a few hours ago. You slid off the edge of the table you had been sitting on next to Dean as the both of you waited for Benny to finish up. The vampire smiled as you chuckled slightly from the miraculous transformation. “Look okay.”

"Getting there.” Benny replied. He went over to the duffel bag Dean had gotten for him out of his pick up truck and gathered all of his belongings together.

“Dude, you were double-hamstrung.” Dean said, showing his concern for his friend’s health.

“Yeah, well, a little rest, a half a cooler full of AB-negative—most wounds short of an amputation will mend up vampircally speaking.” Benny reassured the both of you. He slipped on his coat and hat before grabbing his duffel bag to slip the strap on his shoulder. “I’ll be one hundred percent before you know it. Thank you, brother. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Wish we could have met on better circumstances.”

You reached and shook the hand of the vampire who gave a farewell that felt like it had come sooner than you expected. You didn’t know him for more than a few hours and from what Dean had told you, but you had a feeling his business was still unsolved. “Benny,” You showed your concern for him as you dropped your hand back to your side. “I’m sorry, but what exactly is going on? I feel like there’s more you’re not telling us.”

“Oh, your work is done, Y/N. You and Dean saved the day. You know, I got my deal and you two got—what’d you call it?“ Benny tried to think of the hunter’s exact words he used that had been keeping him busy. “A family business?” 

“Benny.” Dean mumbled the vampire’s name in a serious tone. “What’s going on?”

Benny appreciated the help from the older Winchester, but that was all he asked of the man. He didn’t feel the need to drag Dean or you deeper into his situation. But he had a feeling there was no way either one of you were going to let him finish his problem on his own. "You and that whole ‘friend’ thing, man.” Benny mumbled, shaking his head. “Well, it’s good to know you’re still dumb as ever.”

“Yeah, well, some things never change.” Dean said, ignoring the remark as the vampire set his belongings back down. “Now, why are you getting into machete fights with your own kind?”

“Quentin, the one I came for? We were in the same nest. I’m hunting the vampire who turned me, my maker.” Benny explained to the both of you. You raised your brow in curiosity from the reason he gave you. But you were left wondering why he would hunt him down after all of this time. “Kill him before he kills me…again.”

“Huh.” You mumbled, rather surprised at the honest answer you weren’t expecting. “And the plot thickens.”

Benny managed to steal a few of the personal items that belonged to part of the nest he once was apart of in attempt to track down his maker. You noticed it was a few things like a pocket watch, cell phone and a wallet covered in their own blood. Dean noticed there was a decent size of folded bills lying on the table clipped together, when Benny wasn’t looking, he stashed it in his pocket, knowing he could use it more than the vampire would. You rolled your eyes from what you saw and went back to reading the small notebook you found, trying to make sense of the information scribbled down.

“Quentin and I went way back—one of the old man’s favorites, not to me, it turns out.” Benny said. You half listened to what he was saying as you furrowed your brow slightly from what you read. None of it quite made sense.

“Hey, listen to this. ‘Age of Aquarius two, oh-eight-hundred. And then there’s some other numbers all crossed out. Some other weird names here, too—the Big Mermaid, solitaire—it’s all crossed out.” You said, skimming the list of names you read off to the two men. “Except for this one—the Lucky Myra.”

“Yachts. Names of yachts—Lucky Mrya, Ace of Aquarius two.” Benny explained to you. You handed over the notebook for him to read when he outstretched his hand. He pointed at one down the list. “Look at this one—Sea You Later, spelled s-e-a. I mean, come on.”

“So, then these are launch times.” You guessed, pointing down to the numbers next to them that must have been written in military time. “And what—destinations?”

“Mm-hmm. Except none of them ever get there. The Lucky Mrya left yesterday afternoon. I guarantee you it’s already been hit.” Benny said. You and Dean looked at Benny with a bit of a confused expression from what he meant by that. “Boarded, burned, and buried at sea. My nest—that’s how we fed, how we always fed. We kept a tight little fleet, maybe a half-dozen boats. Nothing ostentatious, just pleasure craft. I must have circled the Americas ten times during my tour. A few of us would act as stringers and patrol the harbors, looking for the right size target—fat, rich yachts going far off ports. Take down the boat’s name and destination, radio it to the crew in the water. And then we just, uh…let the ocean swallow up all our sins.”

Everyone had a past for what they did, and what kind of terrible things they had to do to get by. Benny explained what he had to do in order to survive, and he didn’t seem proud of himself. But it wasn’t like you and Dean were clean from the blood on your hands. Dean thought to himself about the story that the vampire had said. And knowing him, he came up with a neat nickname. “Vampire pirates? That’s what you guys are? Vampirates.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you grew a smile from the rather clever name as Benny let out a chuckle in amusement. “You know, all of the years we ran together, I can’t believe nobody ever thought of that.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. “It’s like the third thing you say.”.

“Vampire pirates.” You mumbled the two words underneath your breath slowly, trying to see if the Winchester’s theory was true. You looked up at him and shook your head to prove that he was wrong. “No, it isn’t.”

“All right, so your maker is set up to feed around here, right?” Dean asked the vampire, getting the conversation back on track. He grabbed the wallet from the table to check the contents inside that consisted of a few pieces of paper and more cash, that he made sure to pocket for himself. “Well, what are we looking for?”

“Well, he likes to live in style. He usually rents legitimately.” Benny said. “Always remote, always coastal.”

“So an island, maybe? You got a cable bill here. Hmm. Quentin’s got the NFL package.” Dean said, reading the cable bill for himself to see what the vampire enjoyed watching. He showed the bill to you and Benny to observe it for yourselves. “Prentiss island. Heard of it?”

“Oh, yeah.” Benny said.

\+ + +

The events for you and Dean turned into from helping out Benny to seeking a little revenge on a vampire nest. You were all in for this plan. You didn’t know the last time you took a vamp nest, hell, when you got to kick some ass. And seeking some revenge was always a bonus, too. You sat in the backseat of the Impala, allowing Benny to take the passenger seat next to Dean while he was behind the wheel like always. You contemplated for a while during the drive if you should text Sam a heads up you found Dean and everything was okay. But knowing the younger man, i would only lead to more questions to what was going on. So, you shoved your phone back into your pocket and stared straight ahead.

“Yeah, so, if you were your maker’s favorite, why did he kill you?” Dean asked, curious to know how all of this started for his friend.

“When you get turned, it’s like you’re reborn into a vampire nest. Your maker—he means everything to you. I mean, you really start believing he’s God. Now, if your maker happens to believe the same thing, well…” Benny reached out his hand to open up the cooler that was between him and the older Winchester. Your nose wrinkled slightly when he began to start sipping on the blood bag like it was a drink. For some reason you felt a wave of nausea hit you out of the blue, making you feel like you were about to be sick.

“See how that could be a pickle. And trust me, I know about the whole being reborn and God thing. Dean probably failed to mention my own backstory. You see, I was born as a half demon. Then turned into one for a short while, thanks to Lucifer. I’m sort of his own 'creation’ in the God sense. Anyway, got kidnapped by him, forced to drink a lot of demon blood…that’s what turned me. And…uh,” You tried your hardest to explain your backstory to the vampire, however you stopped. “I’m sorry, I don’t wanna be rude, but…do you really have to do that? I mean, right now? I don’t know if it’s you or that motel chocolate bar I ate on the way here, but I’m not feeling so good.”

“I’m sorry,” Benny found himself taken back at what you said, ignoring your request for him to stop feeding. “did you just say demon?”

“Yeah. I was born as a half-demon, turned a while back by Satan himself. There’s a long story behind it. But I’m human, now. Uh, short version is that a few years ago she got free. Tortured me and tried to kill me, but she’s long gone. While you guys were hacking and slicing your way through dead bodies I was living as someone else. Thanks to this angel named Castiel.“ You explained your own story to him. You inhaled a deep breath as you felt the nausea suddenly grow worse. “I’m not sure if you met him. He was sent to purgatory with Dean.” 

“You are all sorts of interesting, Y/N. It’s too bad Dean didn’t tell me about you. It sure would have made time in Purgatory move faster. And I have met this I have met this Castiel fellow. He was…an interesting character.” Benny said. You nodded your head as you slowly drew your gaze away from him and to the blood bag he held. He noticed your expression had faltered into one that he recognized as uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m better, but I’m still on the mend.”

“I understand. But I don’t really wanna be sick on Baby’s seats. Dean wouldn’t let me hear the end of it…” You trailed off. Benny understood your concerns and nodded his head in agreement, dropping the blood bag to his lap. You smiled at him in appreciation. “Thanks.”

“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?” Dean asked out of concern. “We can turn around. The vamps nest will still be there. I’m sure nobody’s going anywhere.”

“Nah. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. It happens.” You reassured him. “You want to continue on with the story, Benny?”

“Right. Anyway…our father—he was a jealous God. He kept our family together but he kept us apart from the rest of the world, always at sea. I always did what was best for the nest…till I met her. Andrea.” Benny spoke the name of his lover. You could see a smile form at the ends of his lips at the memory of her. “Andrea Kormos. Beautiful. I mean, words don’t even cut it, you know? Greek, heiress.”

“Come on.” Dean said. He took his eyes off the road for a second to flash the vampire a smirk from the way he was describing the woman that won Benny’s heart from the sounds of it.

“She was sailing a forty-two foot sloop to the Canary Islands.” Benny said. “Now, I should have called her boat’s destination in to my crew, but instead, I joined her on it.”

“Seriously?” The older Winchester chuckled at the twist in the story. “Was Fabio on the cover of that paperback?”

“Shut up, Dean. It’s better than any story you can tell about how you found your past hookups.” You mumbled to the older man, rolling your eyes. "I think it’s romantic how you met her, Benny. A kind of love that’s straight out of a novel, yes, but…still.”

Benny fell silent for a moment as he looked down to his lap. “My life changed when she entered it Dean. Everything I had been or done up to that point just…seemed to vanish into what we had become together. I mean, we found it, man. Ever experienced something like that? A woman who makes you feel complete? Who looked past all your sins and still loved you for you?”

Dean thought about what the vampire had said, about finding someone that made him feel that way. A perfect match that made him feel a little less crappy about himself. He slowly drew his gaze off the road and to the rear view mirror, catching a glimpse of you. Yeah, he did. He found it in you. The both of you didn’t realize that Benny and Andrea’s love story wasn’t too far off from yours from how it ended, as well.

“Eventually we settled in Louisiana. And then one night, we were coming home, and the old man—he was just there. Quentin, Sorento, my oldest nest mates.” Benny continued on with his story. “It was only that night I understood what crime it was to him—me leaving him. They pinned me down, and they beheaded me. The last thing I saw was the old man tearing out Andrea’s throat.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you let out a quiet scoff at the brutal end to the story you weren’t expecting. Finding your true love, only to watch them die before you did. You knew that feeling a little too well. But through tragedy came the anger, and the fun things you could do to get back at those who wronged you.

“Well, that’s what paybacks all about—am I right?” Dean asked the vampire, trying to make light of the conversation as it drifted to a bitter retelling of how Benny’s life on earth ended for him and his lover.

“Docks are up ahead.” Benny said. “Should be able to find a dinghy to use.”

Speaking about the love that he lost had put a damper in Benny’s mood. He pointed ahead to a road that he wanted Dean to take. The Impala moved in the direction and soon you saw the docks up ahead. You knew a little too well about how someone can brainwash you into believing their your God, the only person they wanted you to love. And when you didn’t obey to their every command, they killed everyone you loved.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the memory of that fateful day in the cemetery. About the things Lucifer did to you. You swallowed slightly, forcing the memories into the back of your brain. You reminded yourself that he could never get out again. And you were human. The demon side that taunted you for your entire life was gone, as well. One of the best parts about revenge is that you came out on top. And it was time to help Benny get some of his own.

\+ + +

Finding a boat abandoned at this time of night by its owner wasn’t too hard, you found one tied up to the docks and borrowed it to travel across the way to Prentiss Island. Soon enough you were grabbing ahold of Dean’s hand when he got himself out first to secure the boat so it wouldn’t float away. The three of you grabbed what you needed to take down a nest full of Benny’s old family and went on your way. You lingered behind with the machete loose in your grip. The trip to the mansion required you to travel into the forest, and while the sight to was anything but a little bit dangerous to watch out for possible vamps. However to Benny, it was a walk down memory lane of the nightmare he escaped.

Dean was walking in front of you with his phone out, texting with one hand and holding his own makeshift weapon he made in Purgatory in the other. “Hunting vamps nest on Prentiss Island with Y/N. Not alone—“ Dean contemplated on the way here if he should have texted his brother that you weren’t running around trying to find him and he wasn’t dead. But the mention of a hunt would only make Sam suspicious. Dean hit the back button, erasing the message and tucking it back into his pocket for sake keeping for the next time he’d need it again. Sam would just have to wait, like how he made him wait for an entire year, trying to find a way to escape out of that hellhole. 

“Remind you of anything?” Benny wondered.

The vampire looked over at the older Winchester and raised his brow, not wanting to say the word, partly out of the emotions it brought out of him, and because he wasn’t sure if talking about it in front of you was something Dean wouldn’t like. You found yourself staring around at the forest surrounding the three of you, suddenly knowing exactly what Benny was trying to say the place without actually verbally forcing him to do so. Is that what purgatory was? Dean never talked about it except for the first night the both of you were reunited again. He told you about how brutal it was. Every kind of monster you ever hunted and killed was thrown there. All gunning for each other. Every single day, every single second someone was there they were fighting for their life.

You’ve been to Heaven, and you been to hell. You were stuck in the cage for a short while before being pulled out. But never have you been to Purgatory. You always wondered what it looked like. It seemed God intended in bringing monsters to a land where their true instincts could run free in the wild. Purgatory must have been endless upon endless woods. No place to hide, no place to sleep. You swallowed slightly at the thought of being there for an entire year. Constantly fighting for your life and not getting a single ounce of rest. It wasn’t like Hell, but you had a feeling it was torture in the end. Just a different way.

“It’s weird being back—in the world, I mean.“ Benny went on, finding himself needing to let his own personal thoughts out. You understood where he was coming from in a sense. You spent three and a half months, or thirty-five years in hell, and time in the cage felt like…centuries. When your feet were back above ground you felt little disoriented, too. Benny hadn’t been back in the real world for almost fifty years. Fifty years of hacking and slicing, trying just to survive. To him, this felt like he was living in some strange dream he was waiting to wake up from. “Isn’t it?”

“Sure as hell is.” Dean agreed with him. 

“I mean, what do you do with it all? All the—all the everything?” Benny asked, yet it sounded like he was thinking out loud to himself, lost in his own personal dilemma. Your expression softened from the things he was going through, trying to adjust to the twenty first century and not always having to look over his shoulder. The people around him weren’t all monsters, and there was things he used to enjoy like feeding. And so many other new things to learn. It was overwhelming. All of it felt too good to be true. “Hell, I don’t even know if this world is real, if I’m real.”

“Hey, listen to me. I’ve seen what happens down that rabbit hole, okay? We’re real. Benny, this is real.” Dean stopped the vampire from taking another step to the house. He stared at Benny straight on and reassured him everything around him was what it seemed. “It’s the only way to play this game, you get me?”

Benny nodded his head slowly, reminding himself that it was all real, his surroundings were in fact on earth, and the two people he was standing next to were real. You gave him a small smile to show him he wasn’t in that wasteland anymore. He returned it barley, and started walking again towards the house. As you approached it, you took a sweep around the property to see there wasn’t a soul around except for the three of you and a few lights on inside. Benny found an open back door and opened it up to go first and then Dean, you followed behind and quietly shut the door behind you. 

The three of you began walking down the hallway, peeking behind each room that you passed, making sure the coast was clear. Everything seemed to have been going smoothly as you tracked deeper into the house, Benny remembering each hall and turn, every memory he formed while living inside this house with his nest. As he started to approach the main room of the house, you curiously looked around in the darkness to see how a vampire decorated his house, and it sure was in style. You and Dean were about to head deeper into the house, but Benny found his attention stuck on something. 

“Time to move, Benny.” Dean whispered. 

“The old man’s harpsichord.” Benny muttered underneath his breath. He stood for a few moments and examined the instrument he remembered his maker playing, back in the days neither you or Dean existed just yet. Benny moved his gaze upwards, noticing there was a picture frame decorated on top. As he walked over and grabbed the frame, Benny found himself suddenly regretting the decision at the face staring back at him. It was the love he thought he lost. “No. No, no.”

You peered over the wall you and Dean were pressed up against to keep yourself out of sight while the vampire lingered back, too consumed with his discovery to realize there was someone coming when you saw a shadow cross the wall near the staircase. You noticed a woman beginning to walk down the stairs, and from the shocked expression on her face she hadn’t seen in decades, it wasn’t too hard to realize it was Andrea Koran. And she wasn’t here alone.

Benny was too consumed with his horror at the sight of a woman he thought was long dead, he didn’t realize there was someone behind him. You quickly pulled yourself back into the wall when you saw someone hit Benny in the back of the head, catching him by surprise. You and Dean heard a commotion break out, punches being thrown, all before it fell silent. You turned your head and looked over at the older Winchester with an annoyed expression at the situation Benny put himself into, and dragged you unwillingly in.

“Your friend is an idiot.”

You and Dean decided to take it upon yourselves to finish the job and get Benny when it wasn’t a house full of vampires against two people. It wasn’t your first time taking down a nest, but you had another person with you as an extra set of hands in case things went sideways. But Sam was still back at the motel with no clue at what was going on and Benny was catching up with an old girlfriend he thought dead. You turned the corner and entered another hall full of shut rooms with Dean following behind you.

Suddenly you heard the faintest noise echo in the hall, it sounded like vibrations. You furrowed your brow and stopped for a moment to see where it was coming from, only to realize it was coming from Dean’s phone. He pulled it out his pocket to see that it was his brother calling. You rolled your eyes once again, suddenly regretting not sending him that text. Dean ignored the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Little busy right now.”

When the call ended, you knew it’d be a matter of seconds until Sam would be calling you to try and figure out how progress on finding his brother was. You promised him you would call when you found Dean, or in you had come up short, send him a text to let him know you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. And right on cue, you felt your right butt cheek vibrate, signaling you had a new text. You would have liked to see another day, so you chose to ignore it.

The both of you continued walking down the hallway slowly to keep your footsteps from making the old house creak, knowing that would surely give you away. You tightened your grip around the handle of the machete when you heard the sounds of heavy footing coming your way. You and Dean quickly darted to an empty room when you saw a vamp walk down the hall. When you watched him disappear from your sight, you waved your free hand at Dean, signifying the coast was clear. And right as you stepped back into the hall, you felt your phone go off again, making you grumble underneath your breath in annoyance as you cursed out Sam.

Dean couldn’t risk the chance of his brother calling him or texting you again. So he decided that right now was the perfect time to reassure Sam that you and him weren’t dead. While you were twisting every doorknob you passed to see it would open, Dean pulled out his phone again to quickly call his brother to see what was so urgent that he needed to get in contact.

“Okay, what?” Dean whispered to his brother when the young man answered after the second ring. You rolled your eyes from his impressive behavior as you headed to another door, only to realize it was locked. Sam seemed a bit confused at the older man’s hostile and short tempered behavior over the line. “Why did you call me?”

“Why are you whispering?” Sam answered his brother’s question with another.

“It’s kind of hard to explain, but I’m sort of in the middle of cleaning out a vampire’s nest, and it’s sort of gone a little sideways on me.” Dean explained, thinking that giving his brother an honest answer was the best time right now. You rolled your eyes once again as you continued walking.

“What?! Are you an idiot?” Sam shouted on the top of his lungs from the immature move he thought his brother had taken. His voice rose so loud from the phone you heard it from where you were walking in front of Dean. The older Winchester managed to press his phone against his chest to keep his brother’s anger muffled and grabbed a hold of your arm to yank the both of you against the wall, in attempt from getting caught. “You know better than to go into a vamp nest alone.”

“I’m not alone, damn it. All right? I’m not alone. Y/N’s here with me.” Dean reassured his brother before he could try to rip him a new one again and get the both of you killed. “And we’ve got backup—guy who’s been tracking the nest for a while.”

“What guy?” Sam questioned his brother. “Garth?”

You furrowed your brow from the unfamiliar sounding name, “Who the hell is Garth?”

“What?” Dean turned his head to look over at you from what you asked him. You gave him a confused look at the mention of a name you’ve never heard of before. He chose to ignore your question as he went back to the conversation with his brother before he could try and ask again who the both of you were hunting with instead of him. “No. You don’t know him. He’s a friend.”

“A friend? Dean, you don’t have any–all your friends are dead.” Sam stated the fact.

“That’s not what I called to talk about.” Dean hissed at his brother.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance and pulled out your own phone to send Sam a quick text to let him know where you were before he went ranting on. “I get the separate-lives thing, but this is a hunting thing,” Sam was at it again, rambling on about something that he felt the need was the perfect time to bring up. You inhaled a deep breath, praying to that non existent God you made it out of here alive and Sam’s obnoxious voice wouldn’t be the death of you. “And we need to find that line—”

“Oh my God, stop talking.” You snatched Dean’s phone out of his hand and spoke it into it to let the younger Winchester know you were with his brother. You hit send on your phone to give him the directions while continuing to talk yourself. “I just turned human and got my memories back. I’d like to live a little freaking longer than be killed while hearing your stupid voice. I texted you where we are.”

“Yeah, I got it. Look, I’m on my way.” Sam said. You roughly shoved Dean’s phone into his chest and mouthed for him to take care of it before you went on your way to keep searching the house for any vamps. Sometimes it was moments like this that made you happy you were an only child and both of your parents were dead. “And, listen, if you handle it, great. I’ll buy your friend the first round. But, Dean, listen to me.”

Dean handled the situation by putting his phone onto somewhere safe as his brother went on, only before realizing the line went dead. You sort of thought he would have ended the call to try and save some trouble. But he used his brother’s obnoxious voice to lure out your first bait for tonight. When the vamp went over to Dean’s phone and picked it up, that’s when the older man stepped out and quickly beheaded the monster, his body falling to the ground as his head went rolling not too far. You stepped out from where you were hiding and placed your hands on your hips, shaking your head an annoyance as Dean got started on stashing of the body. But before he did so, he picked up his phone, only to realize the screen was broken beyond repair.

“I don’t understand why you just didn’t tell Sam in the first place.” You said, keeping your voice no higher than a whisper as Dean bent down slightly to start dragging the body to the room with the open door the both of you were hiding in. Dean mumbled your name, thinking it wasn’t the best time right now to talk about it. "No. I mean, sure, being friends with a monster isn’t exactly our M.O. But sneaking around isn’t any better. Hell, it makes the situation even worse.”

"You really want to get into this right now?” Dean asked you.

“Yes, I do.” You said. “Because the next time I try to bring it up, you’re going to change the subject.”

Dean mumbled your name in attempt to get you to help him stash the body. But you stood there with one hand on your hip and the other letting the machete dangle in your hand. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth again, reminding him about how families worked—you needed to be honest, not bicker over the dumbest things and what not. Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed ahold of each pant leg of the vamp’s, but before he could move a single inch, he spoke your name again, cutting you off from what you were trying to say.

“What?” You grumbled at him, almost forgetting you were in the middle of a nest, outnumbered. You noticed that Dean was staring at something from behind your shoulder. When you turned around, your lips stretched into a frown as you brought up your machete. Another vamp. “You know, for being older than the both of us combined, y'all don’t know a lot about manners. I was having a private conversation before you rudely interrupted me.”

You shut your mouth when the blade of the machete sliced right through the vampire’s head so you wouldn’t get any of his blood in your mouth. The both of you got to work on stashing the bodies, knowing it’d be a matter of time until more of them would come. You had no idea where Benny was, even if he was still alive. You didn’t really care right now. As you helped Dean turn the corner while dragging the body, you heard the sound of multiple footsteps suddenly coming your way. You rolled your eyes and dropped the body to the ground with a thud.

Another vampire came around the corner in lightning speed, Dean managed to get it before he could even fight back. You roughly swung your machete at the bigger vamp and watched as his head bounced down the hall. You huffed out a breath and nodded your head for Dean to get a move on it. With three already down, you didn’t bother cleaning up your mess. You needed to finish getting the rest of the nest and find Benny before Sam got here.

Benny might have gotten himself in a bit of a bind, but he managed to get himself out of it from a few other headed bodies you found while making your way through the house to see if you could find him anywhere. After searching all of the second floor, you and Dean headed down, to discover the vampire and his old love talking. The one he went on about on the ride here. About how he found a bit of normalcy before it was all destroyed from what happened to her.

Andrea had been turned into a vampire, but it didn’t mean her life was over. Benny wanted to give her a life outside of a nest, a chance for the both of them to start over together. But Andrea was brainwashed by her maker. She wanted to stay here in the comfort of all she’s known since being reborn into this lifestyle, Benny didn’t. Since he refused to join his family again, she did what she thought was right. She was going to kill him.

Maybe she could have, but Benny would never know. He wouldn’t know what his life would be like with his old love Andrea, or how it would be back in Purgatory if she succeeded. Because Dean was right behind her, and like the countless times in that hellhole, he saved the vampire’s life for once. For a moment Benny questioned everything he ever wanted. Was there really life outside of that place? Could anybody really just…go back to normal?

You’d never know what those two men had been through, and you hoped you would never have to. But you understood some of the things Benny had been through, and knew he’d be just fine at the end of it all. It just took some time for the wounds to heal.

\+ + +

The ride back to land was quiet, neither one of you said much of anything, too caught up in your own personal thoughts about what unfolded tonight. And what waited for you. You let out a quiet sigh when you saw the docks coming forward, and a familiar face waiting for you. And from the infamous bitch face he was giving his brother, Sam was a little pissed. You let out a sigh when the boat came towards the docks. Dean threw his brother the rope to secure the boat as he threw out the duffel bag full of supplies before getting out himself and helping you back into land. This was the moment you were dreading. Sam didn’t even look in your direction when he stood back up. His attention was solely on Benny. 

The vampire got himself out of the boat and headed straight forward to the younger Winchester he had yet to introduce himself to. Wanting to get on the right foot with the hunter, the man outstretched his arm and gave Sam a friendly smile. “I’m Benny, Heard a lot about you, Sam.”

Any sort of hospitality Sam had intended to share towards Benny was long gone from what the vampire said. It was a red flag. You clenched your jaw when you noticed Sam’s free hand was slowly inching towards his concealed weapon. But before he could do anything stupid, you quickly spoke up, trying to bring some humor in this conversation.

"You told him about Sammy, but not me?” You spoke up, smiling at Benny for a moment at what he said before moving your gaze over to the older Winchester. “That was kind of stupid.”

Dean noticed right away what his brother was trying to do. Sam thought Benny was a threat when he realized that he was a monster from purgatory. But before he could take him down like he was taught, Dean slowly shook his head, reassuring his brother that not all what it seemed. Benny let go of the younger man’s hand, having a feeling himself that it was his time to go. You might have embraced him with no judgement, but you couldn’t say Sam would do the same.

“I can see you three have a lot to talk about.” Benny said. You gave the vampire a smile when he looked in your direction. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N.”

“Let me help you with some of your things. I’m sure they wanna be alone for a minute.” You offered to the man, taking the duffel bag that was yours and threw the strap over your shoulder. You looked at both of the boys to see they were uneasy from what was going on. You started walking in sync with Benny, mumbling the last remark underneath your breath. “And I’m sure what I have to say doesn’t matter.”

You left Sam and Dean alone on the docks to try and discuss what you already knew over the past day. You weren’t sure how Sam was going to take the fact that Dean was friends with a vampire and you seemed completely fine with it. Right now you really didn’t care. It was just going to be apart of the long list of things you were going to have to deal with on top of everything else the boys argued about. You shoved the duffel bag into the backseat of the Impala and let out a sigh, dreading the ride out of here and to a new motel.


	5. Southern Comfort.

You loved the Winchesters brothers with all of your heart, they were your surrogate family when your mother was brutally killed and John took you in as his own all those years ago. The three of you had been to hell and back, quite literally. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for each other. Hell, you were pretty sure you did just about anything to make sure they were safe. Your family wasn’t perfect, it was far from it—and you’d admit that in a heartbeat—but it was yours. And like traditional families, there was arguments and disagreements. But it didn’t stop after a few days when they’ve all forgot about what they were fighting about. The boys carried on for long as they possibly could by bringing up the same argument over and over again.

When there was a disagreement between the both of the brothers, you were stuck in the middle, but you refused to pick a side, like always. Because what you thought the boys were arguing about this time around boiled down to what Sam did last year. You’d admit that the younger Winchester’s choices were a bit selfish on his brother’s safety. But you would be coming out as a hypocrite if you agreed with Dean. You weren’t going to give the older Winchester satisfaction to lashing out his brother all the time for what he decided to do. And you weren’t going to let Sam think ditching Kevin for an entire year was the right thing to do.

The boys fighting like cats and dogs was nothing new. You lost count the times all of you argued over things that you felt was going to be the straw that broke the family up for good. No matter how bad it got, there was someone who you could count on to make things better. When you and Dean were ready to kill one another when he made a deal with a crossroads demon to bring his brother back to life, and then you selling yourself to Crowley to replace his spot in hell. Then Sam’s demon blood addiction that Dean despised. How he was so close to letting his brother rot in the panic room and die.

And then the time you broke up with Dean while the apocalypse loomed in the background. The moment where the both of you hit rock bottom and lost all hope for getting a way out of it. Dean was ready to say yes to Michael and you did anything in your power to put Lucifer back in the cage. The both of you were so ready to give up on it all. But there was someone who always dragged you back up and knocked some sense back into your thick skull. Time and time again.

It had been a few days since the vamp nest, and much as you wished that things had calmed It had been two days since the incident on the docks after you helped take down the vamp nest that introduced Sam to Benny Lafitte, who was fresh out of purgatory and friend with his older brother. Everything might have been fine if Benny wasn’t something the younger Winchester was taught to hunt. But you had a strange feeling you didn’t think it was the fangs and thirst for blood that bothered Sam. Much as you tried to bring up the topic with him to see what the real problem was, he’d quickly shoot you down or change the subject. You guessed he was even pissed at you for not calling him or at least sending him a text for what was going on while you went out to search for his brother.

You leaned yourself against the side of the Impala as you waited for Sam to come back with the food he was getting from some joint Dean spotted. While you waited, you busied yourself with scrolling through the contacts on your phone after you updated it last night from your old phone you found buried deep down in your bag. Most of the people you had contacts with were long gone, and there was a few new ones that Dean offered up from other hunters they met while you were gone. Suddenly your thumb pressed against the screen at the sight of a familiar name.

You let out a quiet sigh at the sight of Bobby Singer’s name still in your contacts. You must have accidentally added it in out of pure habit. It was a hard transition of getting back into the reality of things after being gone for two years. Trying to remember the people the boys had met along the way while they hunted without you, the monsters they faced. The people you lost.

You felt a heaviness settle in your chest at the reality of things were still trying to come to terms with. Bobby was one of those people you thought was going to live forever. You and the boys were always the one who died and then came back to reality. Bobby had a few touch and go moments that made you wonder, but he always bounced back into full recovery. You felt your grip around the phone when you remembered why you put his name back into your phone in the first place. You were going to call him if the boys wouldn’t stop fighting at the end of the week. If there was anyone that could knock some sense into the boys it was Bobby. He could fix any sort of problem. But he couldn’t anymore. Because he was—

“Heads up.” Sam’s voice broke your concentration on your phone, making you look up to see he was standing in front of you with the drink you asked him to get you. You shoved your phone back into your pocket and grabbed the paper cup from him. You mumbled a thank you, Sam seemed to have ignored your formality as he headed over to the passenger side of the car.

“I caught wind of a case on this police scanner.” Dean said. “Sounds like our kind of thing.”

Sam outstretched his arms with the paper bag of food in one hand, his own drink in the other. He seemed rather surprised at his brother’s news. “I wasn’t even gone ten minutes.”

“Okay.” Dean said, not seeing the point of his brother’s statement. “That matters why?”

“I don’t know, Dean. How about because you haven’t said a word to me since Prentiss Island?” Sam mentioned the older man’s behavior over the past few days. “And now, what? You want me to shut up and ride shotgun and act like nothing happened?”

“You want to talk about Benny? Fine.” Dean agreed. He decided to go through with the overdue conversation his brother wanted to have right here in the middle of a public setting. “Let’s talk.”

“Fine. How about he’s a vampire?” Sam brought up the first reason why he was upset with his brother, his voice dropped to a hushed whisper when mentioning a flaw of Benny’s he couldn’t look past.

“He’s also the reason why I’m topside and not roasting on a spit in purgatory.” Dean said as he defended his friend against his brother’s judgement. “Anything else?”

“Don’t pretend I don’t get it.” Sam said. “I know you had to do what you had to down there.”

“I highly doubt you get anything about purgatory.” Dean shot back at his brother.

“But you’re out now, and Benny’s still breathing. Why?” The younger Winchester questioned his older brother. Dean’s reason was simple, because the vampire was his friend. Sam didn’t find it all reasonable. He let out a forced chuckle. “And what about my friend, Amy? She was what? ‘Cause you sure as hell didn’t have a problem ganking her.”

“Wait, wait. Back up.” You spoke up from the mention of a name and a set of events you didn’t think you were familiar with. It must have happened while you were gone. You turned your gaze to look at the older Winchester with a slightly confused expression. “Who’s Amy?”

“Well, I guess people change, don’t they?” Dean ignored your question. He was too wrapped up in his argument with his brother to realize you were thrown out of the loop. “We let that werewolf Kate go, didn’t we?”

“She was different. She—You think Benny’s different? Did he tell you he’s not drinking live blood or something?” Sam asked his brother. Dean’s silence was enough to answer his question. He let out a scoff and shook his head at how backwards this was. Sam couldn’t be friends with a monster, but it was perfectly okay for his brother to do so. “And you believe him. Wow. Okay. You know, you’re right. People do change.”

“Yeah. I got a vampire buddy, and you turned your phone off for a year.” Dean just couldn’t resist bringing up what his brother did last year. He would bring up what his brother did over and over again if it meant he won the argument. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, deciding you’ve had enough of this conversation that wasn’t leading all of you a conclusion.

“Okay. We get it.” You spoke up. You were sick and tired of Dean hearing the same mistakes his brother made that made him stay a year in hell. It’d be a matter of time before one of them said something they would regret at the end of this. “I’ll agree the both of you did some pretty stupid things last year. But—” 

“Y/N, for once in your life, can you mind your own business?” Dean cut you off. You weren’t sure why you were so taken back at the way he was speaking to you. All you were trying to do was be the voice of reason here, but it seemed that he didn’t want you poking your nose in where it didn’t belong. “No offense, but I don’t think this concerns you.”

“Excuse me.” You mumbled. “I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah. Not exactly the best time for your advice, Y/N.” Sam seemed to have agreed with his brother on one thing. And that was how he felt about you trying to mend this wound that was formed long before you were back in the picture. And it seemed he wanted to make that clear to you. “This is between me and Dean. I mean, you weren’t here for everything that went down. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand what?” You questioned the younger Winchester. “That the both of you are a bunch of idiots arguing about the same thing since all of us got back? Or is that you left Kevin alone for a year and that’s why we’re in this mess in the first place?”

“So you’re siding with Dean on this? Shocking.” Sam mumbled underneath your breath, but you heard him perfectly from where you stood on the opposite side of the car. He was taking what you said all in the wrong way. You poked your tongue against your cheek from what he said next that pushed you off the edge. “I’m guessing it was perfectly okay for you to take some time off, but not me. And you think Benny’s an okay guy because Dean said so?”

“No. Because I actually spent some time with him and saw that he was a decent person. I’m not judging him based solely on the fact that he’s a vampire or friends with Dean. Because I like to see the good in people. And as far as taking time off, I was planning on coming back. Sorry if I wanted to take a break from the crappy hand I was dealt with. Being in hell for the second time around and spending a year and half with soulless you wasn’t fun. And don’t get me started on finding out I was some demon’s servant on the side. But the real cherry on top of it all was being kidnapped and then tortured for three days straight. Let’s not forget I got my finger chopped off.” You told the younger Winchester the real reason for your departure for those two years. “But I guess that doesn’t matter what I want. It’s all about Sammy’s happiness.“

The younger man realized that he hit a nerve in you from the way you were burning holes into his face. He swallowed slightly as he tried to back himself out of this conversation before he do any more damage. "That’s not what I meant, Y/N—”

“I don’t care what you meant, Sam. I left you two alone because I needed some time away. But I didn’t expect it to be so long. I understand you want out of this life. And I’ll support you no matter what. But what I can’t understand how the both of you managed to royally screw up while I was gone. You two really let me down.” You said, showing your disappointment in both of the boys for how they were behaving. “Bobby’s dead, Cas is still in purgatory and Kevin is nowhere to be found. Good job, guys. I’m so happy to see you guys left things in such good condition.”

“Y/N…” Dean suddenly felt like an ass for the way he was speaking to you as Sam realized that you were still trying to adjust life without the older hunter. You showed it in your cold expression as you stared at both of the brothers from how this conversation turned on something different.

“If Benny screws up, I’ll kill the damn bastard myself. And I promise to mind my own business from now on. Good? Awesome.” You said, giving both of the boys a forced smile. You roughly opened up the backseat door and started to slide yourself in. “Now get your asses in the damn car so we can do this hunt.”

The boys exchanged a simple glance before deciding to listen to your command. You sat in the backseat with your phone already out and searching up the case Dean mentioned to see what you could learn more about. Neither one of you said anything on the way to Missouri, and you were happy for that. Sometimes words didn’t help fix a situation. Sometimes all of you needed to keep your opinions and thoughts to yourself. Because there Bobby wasn’t here to help fix this.

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys settled yourselves into a motel in town of the hunt and went to check it out to see if it was your kind of thing. You adjusted your blazer as you saw the crime scene come into view as Dean pulled up in the Impala while an ambulance began to drive off out of the home. You suspected inside was the dead body with a squished head after reading about it on the way here. While you had taken your turn on being the silent one on the way here, you broke your stride and spoke up, telling the brothers about what you learned.

“So, guy’s old lady comes home while he’s working underneath his car, puts the pedal to the metal, and takes half his head off.” You explained the situation ot the boys. Sam seemed a little underwhelmed at the information, wondering if that’s all you had. “In a nutshell that’s what I could find. She says she blacked out, doesn’t remember a thing.”

“Well, that sounds like insanity.” Sam said. You shrugged your shoulders from his assumption as you looked over at the house to see what kind of action was going on. “So, how does that make this our kind of thing?”

“Do you have another case you want us to check out? If so, speak up. ‘Cause I’m about ready to lose my mind. Kevin’s in the wind, the only thing your brother seems to want to do is pick fights and you’re sulking around like a eunuch in a whorehouse.” You said. Sam found your anologoy a bit odd from the look that he gave you. “And I can’t help but ask myself, when is decapitation not my kind of thing to kill some time?”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond as you opened up the backseat door and stepped out, Dean followed behind a few moments later. Sam didn’t have much choice in the matter about what to do. The three of you headed up to the yellow police tape that kept out bystanders from containing the crime scene. An officer jogged up when he noticed a few unfamiliar faces try to make their way past the tape without permission, you and the boys flashed your badges to trick him into think you were FBI. He seemed a little surprised, you presumed it was because a few federal agents were interested in a case about a woman who ran over her husband.

“Happened to be in the neighborhood.” Sam said to the officer.

“First a Texas ranger, now you guys?” The officer gave his reasoning for being a bit taken back at the sight of all of you showed up. It was because there was another player in town. You gave the man a curious expression as who the other person could be. You presumed it was a hunter. “Yes, ma’am. Right over there.”

It seemed another hunter must have caught wind of the case and decided to take a look at it for themselves. You looked ahead when the officer pointed his finger to the ranger he was talking to just a few minutes before you arrived. raised your brow slightly at the sight of the man who stood with his back turned to you and the boys. But it seemed the scrawny man was someone familiar. Dean’s face fell as he let out an annoyed sigh. You thought it was because how of how the guy was dressed for the part. You raised your brow slightly from his tan suede fringe jacket or the cowboy hat he wore to tie his outfit together.

You watched as the guy took his cowboy hat for a moment to fan himself with it, obviously dying from how much heat that jacket was holding in. You couldn’t help yourself when you let out the quiet chuckle at the sight of his appearance, not to mention how scrawny he was. There was no way he was a hunter. He looked like a kid playing dress up. But looks could be deceiving. You and the boys headed over to the man to intervene on the interview he was doing. And they knew it’d be a matter of time until they had to introduce you to this clown.

"Hey, Chuck Norris.” Dean called out to the man, grabbing his attention.

The man turned around and saw a few familiar faces that he didn’t expect to bump into after seeing them last year. You watched as he broke out into a grin as he shouted the boys name in a surprise tone of voice. He seemed rather happy at the sight of the Winchesters when he let out a laugh and gave each of the boys a hug. You took a step back slightly as you tried your hardest to pass off the formal greeting with a smile, but it seemed the man couldn’t resist at the sight of a new face. You hadn’t even introduced yourself before you were being engulfed in a tight hug by this stranger, and from his grip, he wasn’t planning on letting you go without squeezing the air straight out of your lungs.

“We’re still working here.” Dean reminded the man as he looked over his shoulder to see if any of you had accidentally caught any unwanted attention. But it seemed everyone was wrapped up in their own business to notice the ranger enthusiastically hugging a few federal agents.

“Uh, you guys have no idea how much I missed you.“ The man said with a smile that seemed to be permanently stuck on his face. You smiled slightly as you found his gaze on you. “And who’s your friend?”

"Excuse us, would you?” Dean politely smiled at the man the hunter was talking to. The four of you stepped off to the side to have a private conversation and more formal greetings. But Dean was too caught up in the title the hunter decided to play. “A Texas ranger, Garth? Seriously? We’re in Missouri.”

“What? Come on. I look like a funeral director in one of those.” Garth said. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you tried to picture the string bean in a suit and tie. The hunter couldn’t help himself when he brought up on trying to figuring out who you were. He outstretched his hand for you to take as he formally introduced himself. “Garth Fitzgerald the forth.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You introduced yourself and shook his hand. You noticed for a scrawny guy he sure did have a strong grip. It seemed the mention of your name made Garth’s eyes widen slightly. You weren’t sure if it was because the boys mentioned you before, or it was because your reputation out in the hunting business was tainted after some things leaked out there. Your lips stretched into a smirk as you dropped your hand back down to your side. “What? My reputation that bad nowadays?”

“No. The opposite. You and the Winchesters are legends. I’ve always wanted to meet you. But the boys told me that you died a few years ago.” Garth said. “But you’re back! It’s an honor.”

“What can I say? I’m like a cat.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “I’ve got nine lives.”

“And she’ll claw your eyes out if you piss her off.” Dean added. Your expression fell slightly at the remark as he flashed Garth a smile from what he thought was a playful joke.

“Anyway, I heard some chatter the Winchesters were back in the batter’s box, but I didn’t believe it until now. And Y/N’s back, too? The whole gang’s back together.” Garth said. Much as would have loved to continue this conversation with that smile on his face, he excused himself for a moment when his phone started to ring. You furrowed your brow slightly when he opened up his jacket to reveal three phones. He figured out which one was going off and answered it. “Yo, Earl. What you got? A revenant? Okay, uh, you’ll need a casket and some silver spikes.”

Garth seemed like the type of hunter who liked the title and liked to play dress up, but who had no idea what he was doing if he was really faced with danger. You crossed your arms over your chest as he gave some advice to another hunter about taking care of a revenant before tucking his phone back and continuing the conversation with the three of you. It seemed what he had done didn’t only rub you the wrong way, but the boys, too.

“What are you doing?” Dean questioned the man.

“My job, hombre.” Garth said, not sure what the problem was.

"Your ‘job’?” Dean repeated the man’s excuse. “And since when is giving advice your job?”

“Hold up.” Sam said. He pointed his index finger up at the other hunter when he realized what was going on here. “Are you the new Bobby?”

You couldn’t help yourself when you let out the loudest scoff from what you were hearing. This had to be some kind of sick joke. There was no way possible this guy was trying to be Bobby Singer, the man who knew more about hunting than all of you combined. Garth admitted that he was, and for some reason, it rubbed you in all the wrong ways.

“What the hell do you know about hunting?“ You questioned the man you just met. You stared at him with a pissed off expression as you narrowed your eyes on him. If you weren’t in public, you would have knocked that stupid hat off his head and really clawed his eyes out out of pure anger at what he was doing. "Who the hell gave you gave the right to replace him?”

“Bobby was gone. The boys were M.I.A. It was a weird time.” Garth explained to you as he tried to defend himself against your judgement. “Somebody had to step in and take up the slack.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes. “I was gone for two years and everything turns to crap.”

“Let’s just get back to work, and we’ll talk about this later, alright?” Garth had the audacity to try and tell you what to do. You gritted your teeth as you refrained yourself from doing anything that you would regret. So, you listened and headed over to the man he was talking to before all of you arrived. “Uh, Scott Lew. These gentlemen and lady are here with the FBI. Mr. Lew’s parents were the individuals involved in this…unfortunate situation.”

“We’re sorry for your loss, Mr. Lew.” You gave the man your sincerest apologies as you flashed him a sympathetic smile, managing to hide your anger from what happened a few moments ago with Garth. “We just have a few questions. By any chance were your parents have material problems?”

“No. Uh, no more than anyone else.” Scott admitted.

“What about your mother’s health?” Sam asked the man. “Any chance this was a seizure, a stroke, anything that might help explain this?”

“I don’t think so.” Scott said. “They’re checking her out at the hospital right now.”

"What about stranger behavior?” Dean asked the kind of questions all of you were really here for. Scott looked at the older Winchester with a slightly confused expression at what he meant by that. “Hearing voices, seeing things—your mother mention anything like that?”

Scott scoffed at the strange questions, “My parents were married for thirty years–high school sweethearts. There’s no good explanation for why this happened, no matter where you want to look.”

"Okay, well, thank you, Scott.” Garth said. “We’ll be in touch.”

You gave the man another formal smile as you watched him walk off out of your sight. When he was gone, your expression dropped as you looked over at Garth. You found yourself staring at him with more a colder expression as you looked at him up and down. There was no way in hell this guy was going to be the new Bobby. You highly doubt he was that good of a hunter. And you weren’t going to hide your displeasure for him. Garth tried his hardest not to let your intimidating glare get his spirits down as he gave you another smile, hoping you would start to warm up.

You decided to focus your efforts away from giving Garth the death glare and trying to figure out what caused Mrs. Lew to cave her husband’s head in since she was so in love with him. There wasn’t much the crime scene could offer you as you and Dean looked around for any traces of sulfur as Sam scanned the area for EMF. If she was possessed it would explain the blackout she had, and a demon sure wouldn’t pass up the chance to see some guts and blood. But you didn’t have much of anything to go on as you searched high and low. The reader Sam was using was quietly buzzing over the past few minutes, but you didn’t hear any high spikes like you were hoping for.

“No EMF.” Sam clarified what you had already started to suspect.

“No traces of sulfur anywhere.” You mumbled in defeat.

“Like I thought,” The younger Winchester said. “Bust.”

“Hold on there, Sam. There’s a lot of things to factor in here. Uh, it happened last night, so the readings could be cold by now.” Garth pointed out a reason why the EMF wasn’t showing up like you expected. You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest when the got one thing right. Still didn’t mean he knew anything about hunting. “And even if there was any sulfur, Barney Fire and his crew probably contaminated the whole crime scene and any evidence that was here with it.”

“Wow.” Dean mumbled, seeming impressed at Garth’s observation. “He’s on a roll.”

You scoffed to yourself as you tried your hardest to not give Garth the satisfaction in getting a few things right that saved the three of you from passing this hunt off as some sort of attempted murder like the cops presumed it was. “So he’s two for two. I was gonna say that. I just didn’t get the chance.”

“Sure you were, Nancy Drew.” Dean said, you narrowed your eyes on the man as you threw daggers at him from his unwanted remarks.

“Uh, guys,” Garth suddenly spoke up after he accidentally stepped in something that felt sticky and slippery. It wasn’t blood as he tried to move his shoe, the substance tried to glue it down to the cement floor. “I think I found something.”

You looked down at the ground to see Garth had stepped in something that was an odd shade of green and too sticky to be anything that looked normal. “Is that gum,” Dean suspected before going for an answer that made a bit more sense. “Or is that ectoplasm?”

“Ectoplasm is usually black, right?” You wondered. Garth decided there was one way to be sure if it was someone’s leftover gum that melted from the weather, or a possible clue to the monster you were dealing with. Your face dropped into a horrified expression when you saw him reach down and wiped his fingers on the bottom of his shoe to get a bit of it and started to put it near his mouth. “Oh, God. Don’t eat—”

But it was too late. Garth had a bit of a taste of the substance and grimaced at what touched his tongue. You gave him a disgusted expression at what he did, but he confirmed your suspicions. “Definitely ectoplasm. So, what are we thinking—some kind of ghost, right?”

Dean snapped his fingers in agreement with the man when Sam was proven wrong, you turned your head to give him an an annoyed expression. Garth was momentarily distracted from the conversation when another one of his phones began to go off, one of his ringtones was a song you were a bit familiar with. It seemed he had it all figured out. But you still didn’t like him and what he was trying to do. All of it rubbed you the wrong way.

“One of those things start playing Hammer, I’m gonna fight that scrawny son of a bitch.” You found yourself mumbling a threat as Garth continued his conversation on the phone, having no clue of what you just said.

Garth seemed to have no idea what a pen and paper was when he pulled out a Sharpie from his pocket and wrote something down on his palm. He thanked the person on the phone and ended the conversation. “Asked the coroner to drop me a line in case the autopsy turned up anything unusual. And guess what? Our dead guy had the words ‘Alcott’ carved into his chest.”

“With what?” Sam asked.

“Coroner’s best guess? His wife Mary’s fingernails.” Garth said.

“Yeah,” You agreed. “That is sort of unusual.”

\+ + +

Yesterday afternoon Mary Lew was a happily married woman to her husband Chester for over thirty years and the mother of her only son, Scott. Nobody would have expected in this small town for her to end up like this, handcuffed to a hospital bed after attempting to murder her husband in the most brutal way possible. While she wasn’t denying that she did it, she claimed that she had no memory of her actions. But it seemed she was remorseful.

“Mrs. Lew, can you tell us what happened?” Sam asked the woman for her version of the story.

“I was at the store getting groceries, and the next thing I know, my son Scott finds me in the driveway.” Mary told everything what she did to the police. She didn’t look like a cold blooded killer. The memory of her husband made her fall silent as you saw her eyes beginning to well up at the vicious sight she was forced to be reminded of again. “And Chester was…”

"Do you remember anything at all about what happened?” Sam continued to ask the woman questions in a polite, soft tone. “About Chester dying?”

“Not really.” Mary admitted. “Bits and pieces, I guess.”

A small moment of silence fell in the room as Mary gathered what she could remember about the night. You looked away from the woman for a split second to see how each of the boys were taking in the information. While the brothers remained respectful in their serious expression, it was Garth who suddenly felt the need to break out into a smile, acting like this was the best thing he heard. You gave him a dirty look at how he was acting as you furrowed your brow.

It seemed he got the hint that it wasn’t the time to react to hearing about how Mary’s blackout corresponded with ghost possession. Garth covered his tracks by letting out a cough and composed himself back to normal. You rolled your eyes and turned your gaze back to Mary, pretending nothing happened as you asked her what she meant by that.

“I remember his screams…the smell of burnt rubber, and…I remember feeling so angry—just uncontrollable rage, like I wasn’t myself.” Mary admitted to all of you. “And after it was all over, all of that anger was—it was gone.”

“Uh, ma’am, does the word ‘Alcott’ mean anything to you?” Garth asked.

Mary seemed to have some anger still left in her. Your gaze fell down to her hands that rested on the hospital bed, they clenched into fists as the handcuffs that kept her to the bed moved up slightly on the railing. It seemed the word struck a nerve in her. “What does she have to do with anything?” Mary asked. You gave you a curious look when you realized it was a person she had known. “My husband, Chester, and I were going steady in high school for a few years already when we had a big fight.”

“What about?” Dean asked the woman.

“Something stupid, I’m sure.” Mary admitted, quietly chuckling to herself at the memory. “It was around prom, and so he took Sara Alcott as his date instead of me.”

“So, this Sara Alcott was a rival for your husband’s affections?” Garth wondered.

“Sara had one night with him, whereas I was with Chester for thirty-seven years.” Mary said in a matter-of-fact voice, acting like she was trying to prove she won in the end.

“Sure. Just one more question.” You said. “Is Ms. Alcott still alive?”

“As far as I know, yes.” Mary answered you.

You gave the woman a smile and thanked her for the time, despite her answers that left you with a bit of uncertainty to what could have caused her to murder her husband. If it wasn’t a jealous lover who passed away and wanted to seek some revenge of the one who got away, then who the hell wanted to see Chester dead and used his wife as the meatsuit? It was questions after questions as you headed out of the hospital and to the parked Impala out front.

“Let me get this straight.” Dean said, trying to somehow make sense of what was going on here. “This poor guy goes to prom with some girl over thirty years ago, and because of that, he is now a pancake?”

“I mean, if this is a ghost, maybe it’s some sort of possession?” Sam guessed.

“What are you talking about? You heard her.” You said, busting the only lead you had at the moment. “Alcott’s still alive.”

“Well, we’re definitely gonna want to talk to her.” Garth suggested the next plan of action.

“Great idea. I would’ve thought of that.” You sarcastically implied as you smiled at the other hunter. You headed over to the backseat of the Impala, while doing so, you swore you heard your stomach growl so loud the entire group could hear it from where they stood. “Can we get something to eat now? I’m freaking starving.”

“Well, that explains a few things.” Dean muttered underneath his breath as he fetched out his keys from his pockets.

You tossed the older Winchester a dirty glare from his remark as you opened up the backseat and slid yourself in before slamming the door shut. You didn’t like this hunt, you didn’t like Garth pretending to be someone he probably barely knew. You inhaled a deep breath as you tried your hardest to calm your sensitive nerves. Maybe Dean was right. You might just be hungry, there was nothing a little food and booze couldn’t solve.

\+ + +

The anger you were feeling a half an hour ago was soon replaced by relaxation when you were sitting down and enjoying the first bite of the food you ordered. You discarded your blazer and rolled up your sleeve of the white blouse you wore, matching the look the boys were sporting while they sat across the table from you and Garth. For such a tiny guy, Garth sure knew how to inhale a plate of food in the matter of minutes.

You eyed him from the side as he scarfed down one plate of food before you even made a dent in yours. The waitress brought him over another plate of food, reassuring him she’d keep ‘em coming, and headed back off to tend to her other tables in the bar.

“So, Dean, give me the skinny.” Garth struck up a conversation since the four of you got here to help relieve some of the quietness that was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Where were you this past year?”

“Why don’t we save for what I did on my summer vacation for another time?” Dean suggested to bring up another topic that he wasn’t all too comfortable with to discuss. You eyed both of the boys as you reached for your drink. Sam kept his expression blank as he continued to eat his salad as Dean chewed on the bite of his burger. Garth was eager to hear details as he pushed for the older man to spill. “All right. I was in purgatory.”

Garth fell silent for a moment at the mention of a place he wasn’t expecting to hear the man had spent all of last year. “Like purgatory purgatory?”

“No,” Dean sarcastically corrected him. “the one in Miami.”

“Man, that’s balls.” Garth said, still a mouthful of full of food as he let out a chuckle. He wiped his mouth with a crumpled napkin before swallowing his chewed up food you seen a few too many times for your own personal comfort.

The sudden sound of your fork hitting your plate echoed through the air as you turned your head to look at the man sitting next to you. You gave him an annoyed glare from what he was trying to do. He was still trying to be Bobby in all of the wrong ways that was starting to annoy you.

“That’s not how you say 'balls.’” You told him. “If you’re gonna say it, say it right.”

The brothers gave you a look from how you were behaving as the smile that never seemed to have left Garth’s face slowly began to damper. You rolled your eyes when you looked around the table to see the outburst had been met with unsettling results from how you were acting. You grabbed your fork and stabbed into your food before taking another bite, doing anything what you could to silence yourself. Garth tried not to be affected by your attitude as he continued on the conversation with Dean, curious to how he was back in the real world.

“So how’d you get out?” Garth asked the older Winchester.

Dean felt three pairs of eyes on him at the mention of a question he didn’t go into too many details about, at least, not with you. Sam dropped his fork to his plate and looked at his brother. A forced smile crept on the ends of his lips as he raised his brow, wondering the same thing as well. You turned your gaze back down to your plate and continued eating your food.

Dean tried to find another conversation topic as he looked around the bar. It seemed that all of you didn’t need to travel too far to get a feel of the south. Every inch of this place was covered in Confederate flags. A symbol in which represented different things for people. But what it made you think of was racism and the civil war. So it was fitting for the south to keep trying to hold on.

“What’s up with all the hillbilly hankies?” Dean asked. “These people know the civil war’s over, right?”

“That’s a touchy subject around these parts. See, Missouri was a border state.” Garth explained a bit of history to you and the boys. “So, half of the men were Confederate, the other half were the union.”

“How do you know all of this?” Sam found himself asking the man. You had to admit you were a bit impressed at how Garth managed to tell you a piece of information about the civil war that you never knew. But you didn’t give him the satisfaction as you stared at him with a blank expression.

“I went to college.” Garth said. You raised your brow slightly as you repeated what he just said. Most of the hunters you came across only finished high school, and the few that went to try and persuade higher education never made it very far. “Yeah. College, and on to dental school.”

“What, you were a dentist?” Dean asked, even he sounded surprised.

“Yeah, just for, like a hot minute.” Garth said. “Where’d you think I got first case?”

Your lips stretched into a smirk as you took a wild guess at what dragged him into this lifestyle while he was a dentist for the short time that he was. “Let me guess—tooth fairy.”

You were trying to be funny and sarcastic at the same time when you brought up a creature that you didn’t think was true. It was like Santa Clause being shot and thought of a home intruder by someone and then discovering the supernatural. Or the Easter bunny getting ganked by animal patrol. However the smile that faded from Garth’s face made you realize that that’s what really happened. You bit your bottom lip in attempt not to laugh during this insensitive storytelling.

“Yeah. Man, I felt terrible when I ganked that S.O.B.” Garth admitted the tragedy. You covered your mouth as an attempt to keep the smile from showing at the story. Sam seemed a little bit confused. He found himself repeating the information again, wondering if Garth was really telling the truth or just pulling his leg. “Yeah, man. I mean, not my proudest moment, but it happened.”

Everyone got into this lifestyle for one reason or another, whether it was a weekend trip that went on for longer than you and the boys planned, seeing a loved one die from supernatural causes or accidentally murdering the tooth fairy. It seemed like the way Garth would get into this, by pure comical accident. The real question you had was how did he manage this long without getting himself killed? You might have been a little harsh on him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Bobby was a good man and an even better hunter. You’d be damned if you let this string-bean ruin his reputation.

\+ + +

It was only a few hours after Mary Lew was charged with murder of her husband when you got another vicious and yet strange attack that left another person dead. And to your surprise, it was Mary’s son, Scott that was to blame for the incident at a convenience store. He was sitting in the back of a cop car looking like he was doing everything he could not to have a breakdown. When you and the boys stepped into the crime scene, it was a bloody mess that even took you by a bit of surprise to see only one man was to blame for this.

There was broken glass all over the floor and blood splattered everywhere after the victim’s face was bashed in with a coffee pot and burned with the scalding hot liquids. But Scott wasn’t done there. He beat the poor son of a bitch a few times, bashed his skull against a few fridge doors and then settled on finishing the job with a shovel. The dead body laid on the floor with a sheet already beginning to become soaked in his blood. You didn’t dare look under the sheet to see how bad the damage was. You really didn’t want to lose your lunch at the sight of a skull crushed in with bits of glass and burn marks on the face. 

“So, first the mom goes ‘Natural Born Killer,’ and now the son? Well, what do we got—a ghost with an Oedipus complex?” Dean asked you and his brother. You raised your brow slightly, but he had no clue what he was trying to say. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Check that out.” Sam said, his index finger pointed across the to something he spotted that might be of use for all of you. 

You looked over to see there was a word written on a freezer door on the bottom right in the victim’s blood. You furrowed your brow slightly as you repeated the name to yourself. “‘Sussex.’ What is that, another name?”

“I don’t know.” Sam admitted. Garth headed forward to the three of you after he finished up speaking to the sheriff to see what could have caused this. You narrowed your eyes slightly when you noticed he was still wearing that hideous ranger jacket, but his cowboy hat was missing. He was now wearing a beat up and dirty baseball hat. “Hey, what’d the cops say?”

Garth only made it a little farther before he felt himself stepping into the same green substance he had accidentally found back at the other crime scene. “Aw, come on.” He mumbled underneath his breath in annoyed. Scraping the ectoplasm on a clean spot on the floor, he told you and the boys what he learned. “Not much. Uh, Scott insisted he wasn’t in control of himself. Says all he remembers is a red-hot rage.”

“So, what is this some kind of family curse?” Sam wondered, trying to make sense what would leave a greenish substance and make two family members kill within hours of one another. Before anyone could take a guess, you spoke up, too caught up on that damn dirty trucker hat sitting on Garth’s head. 

“Is that Bobby’s hat?” You asked him, pretending it was out of curiosity.

“Oh, yeah. Sure is. We worked a rugaru case together a few years back. He left it in my car, so I kept it as a…” Garth broke out into a smile at your question when he fell for your trap. He went on about some story you didn’t give a rat’s ass about, and it seemed he got the hint when he trailed off after you snatched the hat right off of his head. “Memento. What are you doing?”

“That’s not how you wear it.” You whispered to him, but each word was dripping with hatred to what he was trying to do. Sam gave the other hunter an apologetic look from how you were acting all day, but it wasn’t going to put a damper in Garth’s mood.

“Gentlemen, lady. Surveillance is up,” The deputy Garth had been speaking to stepped over to where the four of you had been occupying over the past few minutes. You tucked the jacket somewhere safe as you calmed down, presenting yourself in an interested manner for what he was saying. “but something is all screwy with it.”

All of you headed over to the TV mounted on the wall and watched the footage play out of Scott violently stabbing the victim with what appeared to be a shovel. You furrowed your brow slightly when you noticed Scott’s face was completely blocked out with a white strip of light on the screen. Most of the time cameras worked against monsters like shifters, their eyes went a little funny. But this? You swore it wasn’t anything like you’ve seen before. The deputy found it a little odd himself, you agreed. You smiled and thanked him for all of his help, giving him the hint to head off so the four of you could have some alone time to discuss what you just saw.

“You guys see the head?” You pointed your finger to the screen, bringing everyone’s attention to the blurred spot on the TV. “Ever seen anything like that before?”

“Like that? No way.” Garth said. You nodded your head slowly as you looked at the three men with a curious expression, wondering what the next move should be. Each of the boys muttered something as each of them exchange a look. “So, I’m thinking we need to talk to Sara Alcott. I found her—although these days, she goes by Sara Brown.”

“How about this?” Sam came up with a plan. “Dean and I’ll check her out, you and Garth see what you can find out about Sussex.” 

You expression fell into a surprised expression at the genius plan the younger Winchester came up on the spot. Much as Sam wasn’t exactly on board with the idea of spending some time with his brother, the look on your face was worth all of the awkwardness he was about to endure. You crossed your arms over your chest as you tried your hardest to remain calm. All of you were working a case, and when it came to research, it’s where you excelled. If Garth was half good as Bobby, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. 

You looked over at Garth and forced yourself to give him a friendly smile, showing him some reassure you weren’t going try and to bite his head off like the other times before. He seemed all of a sudden overjoyed at the sight of you trying to be nice to him, making the man break out into a toothy smile. You let out a sigh and looked over at the passing younger Winchester. You swore he was actually pleased at what he did. You rolled your eyes and followed behind Garth to his car.*

\+ + +

You and Garth headed back to the motel to do some digging on what you could find on the name of Sussex. You changed back into your normal clothing, ditching the blouse and pencil skirt for some jeans and flannel. You sat at the table with your laptop open as Garth occupied the seat across from you, his focus kept on Bobby’s journal you had to see what he could find that made two people brutally murder someone and leave them with no memory of their actions. 

You scrolled through some websites as you occasionally took a sip of your beer you took from the fridge. There was another bottle on the table next to you, and every so often, Garth took a peak, as if he was contemplating if he wanted to enjoy one for himself. After staring at it for five minutes Garth decided to let himself have the drink, but before he could grab it, you reached out your free hand and dragged it away from him. Garth gave you a slightly confused look, wondering what he did now to piss you off and deny him a simple beer. However you had your reasons besides the fact you were starting to hate his guts. 

“Easy there, flyweight.” You said. “I have a feeling of you take even one sip of that and I’m gonna have to pick you off the floor.”

Garth let out a chuckle as he smiled to himself, thinking you were just looking out for him. You rolled your eyes when he focused his attention back to the journal as you turned your gaze back to the computer. “You’re such an idjit.” Garth muttered an insult that you hadn’t heard in years. The last time you did was when Bobby was still alive. It was right after Dean poured his heart out to you, about how he wanted to marry you…You felt your grip around the bottle tighten.

“Idjit’s supposed to be used angrily. Okay? Not happy.” You told the man. You were now looking at Garth again to tell him how to use the vocabulary of a man that was long gone to correct him. You felt it was your place to do so. Garth’s smile faltered once more. “If you’re gonna butcher it, don’t say it at all.”

“Whoa, then. Okay.” Garth said. You gave him an annoyed look before you were turning your attention back to the laptop, hoping you could get some actual work done. You inhaled a deep breath as you put down the bottle to rub your neck that was starting to feel sore. Garth watched you for a moment, picking up your nonverbal cues that made someone appear like they were distant and under some stress. “N-None of my business, but…you seem like something’s bothering you. This have to do with you and the boys?”

“No, you had it right. It’s none of your business.” You said. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Let’s keep things professional.”

"Okay.” Garth mumbled. You were hopeful that he would have gotten the hint you didn’t want to talk to him. But that mouth of his just kept on going. “I know you and the boys are close. They told me you’d been hunting with them since you…died. Bobby even said the three of you were a pretty tight knit group. It just seems a little weird for you guys to be acting so tense around each other, Sam and Dean especially. Bobby said that you were practically the glue that kept them together all these years. I could understand if it gets overwhelming, sometimes.”

You bit the inside of you cheek from what he was saying. He didn’t know you, he had no idea what kind of problems were going through or how your relationship with the boys were. You cleared your throat and gave him a reassuring smile that everything was fine on the home front. “I’m fine. The boys are, too. Now, if you don’t mind…I’d like to get back to work.”

“Yeah.” Garth agreed. You gave him another smile and looked back at the screen for all of five seconds before he was at it again. You reached for your beer when he tried to be the good person that he was, giving you a shoulder to cry on as if the both of you were friends. Because he thought it was the right thing to do. “Just, uh—Just letting you know that I’m here for you, for anything. I know we just met, but you seem like a good person, Y/N. Bobby said nothing but good things about you. And I know sometimes Bobby, he would—”

“Damn it, Garth! You’re not Bobby!” You slammed the bottle down to the table with a thud to stop the man from saying anything else. Talking about the older hunter made your skin crawl in ways that brought up a feeling you hated. Because you felt it so many other times before. You were mean before, but this time, you let him have it. “You’re never gonna be Bobby, so stop!”

Garth fell silent as his expression turned into a bit of shock from how you were lashing out and showing him how you really felt about him trying to be a hunter that had been dead for over a year now. You gave him a cold expression to prove it just how you really felt about him. When you were done, you tried once more to do your work before the boys got back. Garth sat there for a moment or two, trying his hardest to control his own anger that you brought out of him.

Some would say that Garth wasn’t a mean person, he was far from it. He always looked for the best in people and did everything he could to make the people around him at ease. That’s why he loved hunting. But today he was finding his patience being tested by you. You kept belittling him and tearing him down for no reason, but you had your own reasons you thought you’d never share. There was only so much that you could take, and there was only so many jabs Garth could handle before the both of you snapped at each other. You told him all afternoon about how you felt about him, now it was his turn to show you that your words hurt him.

“Bobby belonged to all of us, Y/N—not just you and the boys.” Garth said. You slowly looked up from the laptop screen at what you just heard. Part of you knew that you words were having a negative effect on him, but your grief was making you act different. “Now, I’m just taking what he showed me and trying to do something with it. That’s all!”

“You know the difference between me and every other hunter out there who knew Bobby? You and the boys got to see him one last time. You got to work

last case before he died. You had the chance this past year to actually mourn and understand that he’s gone for good. I never got that chance. That bastard spent up until his last breath thinking that I was dead. But I really wasn’t. And now I see this…string-bean,“ You had spent all day hating Garth’s guts, but for some reason you found yourself letting out the strangest noise that sounded like a laugh when you gestured a hand to him. Because it was the next best thing than bursting into tears. "Trying to be him. And it hurts. Because it makes me realize that he’s really gone. And I think to myself every single day if I just didn’t want that picture perfect life so badly…maybe he’d still be alive.”

Garth finally got the truth about why you were giving him the cold shoulder since you first met him. It wasn’t because you disliked him being the man that was practically a guide for everyone he’s ever met in this hunting business, it was because you blamed yourself for his death. Garth gave you a sympathetic expression at the progress you and him were making. He knew it might have been the best to try and not push his boundaries with you, but he couldn’t help himself to pry more information out of you with the boys still gone.

"What do you mean by the fact that you weren’t dead?” Garth asked in a cautious voice. “Were you in purgatory with Dean, too?”

“Far from it. I was in Suburbia for those two years after everyone thought I died. You could say I took a vacation from my own life to live as someone else after going through some pretty crappy stuff that just broke me. I thought I deserved it…but in reality, I was selfish.” You found yourself admitting the truth to Garth without realizing it. You bit your bottom lip to silence yourself and try to maintain some privacy on your personal feelings. Even though you just met Garth, and you spent the entire day being a bitch to him, there was something about him that made you realize that he was harmless. He really did mean well. “I remembered who I was after the boys found me. That’s when I found out the only father figure in my life and…and my best friend were dead. Gone.”

“And you think that if you were there you could have stopped it from happening?” Garth guessed what you were trying to say. You nodded your head to answer his suspicions, giving the reason why you’d been such a bitch to him. “Y/N, even if you were there, there was nothing you could have done. I’m sure the boys beat themselves up over and over again. None of the decisions you made were your fault. These things just…they just happen.

“I know. But part of me feels like I’m failing him, too. I mean, out of anyone, Bobby kept these boys from ripping each other’s throats out.” You moved your lips slightly as you felt your eyes glaze over from the tough subject matter the boys didn’t even know about. You sniffed as you managed to keep your composure in front of him. “I’ve been trying my hardest since I got back to make things go back to the way things were before. But the boys just keep acting like a bunch of…idjits.”

The both of you let out a laugh from the word that you used in the proper context that Bobby always did. You suddenly felt yourself being overwhelmed with guilt at how you had been treating Garth all day. You swallowed down your petty hatred for the man who had been sitting here and listening to your problems. “I’m sorry, Garth. I really am. I think the only reason why I’ve been acting like this is because I’m still trying to come to terms with this. It still feels new to me.” You apologized to the man. You gave him a warm smile as you pushed over the beer for him to take. “Think we can start over?”

Garth didn’t need to think about it. He reached for the beer and raised it up, signaling for you to do the same. The both of you broke out into a smile from the toast he dedicated it to someone special. "For Bobby. May the man rest in peace.”

"And for you to continue on his legacy.” You added. Garth seemed a bit taken at what you said, considering you had protested it before. But you were thinking differently now after giving him a chance. You got to see the man for who he was. And Garth wasn’t too bad. “What can I say? If someone can sit here and listen to me, you’ll make a great Bobby. And if you ever need a tips, string-bean, I’m just a call away.”

“I’d like that.” Garth said. You gave him another smile before the both of you clinked glasses and took a sip. However you gave the man a bit of a funny expression when he suddenly seemed a bit hesitant to do so. “Uh…Maybe you’re right about the drinking.”

You let out a quiet chuckle and nodded your head, “Why don’t you see if you can find something in that bourbon-drenched book of his so we can’t get the hell out of dodge, all right?”

“Yeah.” Garth reassured you. You were growing more a bit at ease when you saw him smiling again since you accidentally snapped at him. “I’m on it.”

You focused your attention back to the laptop to finally try and figure out who Scott hated so much to write the word Sussex in his victim’s blood. However a bit of research made you realize that you might have been looking at this all wrong. “'Sussex’ is not a who, it’s a what. It’s a business that went belly-up about a year ago. Look at this.” You said, turning your laptop around to show Garth the article you had found. He pulled up the photo of Scott and the victim he had attacked earlier today. “So, the guy that Scott attacked? His old business partner—ran the company into the ground.”

“So, Scott had a beef with Jeff.” Garth suspected.

“Looks like it.” You said. You took another sip of your beer before answering your phone when it started to wring. You looked at the caller ID to see that it was Sam. The both of them must have made it through the interview without killing each other. “Hey, you’re on speaker.”

“Sara Alcott’s clean, if you look past the fact she and Chester knocked boots on prom night back in the day.” Sam chuckled at the petty revenge that came a few decades too late.

“Okay, so…Mary has a grudge against Sara, and Scott has a grudge against Jeff.” You said as you tried to piece together the puzzle here of who hated whose guts. “Besides the fact this is making my head hurt, how does this add up to a ghost?”

“Guys! Bobby has it right here. Green goo equals a spectre.” Garth said, finding out what could be to blame for from the sudden vicious killings. You guessed that it meant a possible ghost, but the man thought the word was a little too broad for this monster. “Mm, yeah, kind of. A spectre is an avenging ghost. It possesses you and finds out whatever betrayals you’re feeling and forces you to act on them.” 

“Bobby say anything in there about how we hunt these things?” Sam asked.

“Uh, the last spectre he encountered rose shortly after someone desecrated a nearby grave.” Garth said as he skimmed the man’s journal for the information.

You grabbed your laptop and turned it around, pulling up the FBI search database, it took only a few keywords for you to find exactly what you were looking for. “There was a grave desecrated locally three days ago. It says here…” You read through the report, but your face fell when you realized where it was. “Oh. This could get awkward.”

\+ + +

You’ve dug up your fair share of bodies during your years of hunting to stop a spirit. Some of them were of people with a name people had long forgotten about, others of historically famous people in their small town. You’ve never quite stooped low to the point where you were about to interfere with American history. You and the boys headed to the cemetery with Garth early into the evening while it was still light out. The mausoleum of the unknown soldier was just across on top of the small hill where you saw people stepping inside to pay their respects while a guard stood outside of the building to keep a watchful eye.

“The unknown soldier?” Dean found himself even taken back at what was going on here. You shrugged your shoulders at the lack of proper answers you could give him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Mary Lew steamrolled her husband the day after this place was vandalized.” Garth said. “Do the math.”

“But I thought the unknown soldier was buried in Arlington.” Sam said.

“Yep, but this is the Confederate tomb of the unknown soldier. See, the idea was, they took a faceless, nameless soldier they couldn’t identify, and they buried him here to commemorate all the soldiers who died.” Garth explained to you and the boys. You seemed rather impressed at the knowledge, Dean sarcastically asked him if he learned that in college. “Nope—civil war reenactments. Once a year, every year.” Dean shouldn’t have been surprised at what the man had proudly admitted to, but he found himself staring at Garth with a look of disbelief at how much of a bigger nerd than he took him for. “Don’t hate.”

“Okay, what about the guard?” You asked, knowing that was your biggest obstacle.

“He’s ceremonial.” Garth reassured you. “Gone by dusk.”

“So, then we do this tonight?” Dean asked, you nodded your head.

“Burn a Confederate soldier’s bones in a town full of rednecks? Sure.” Sam sarcastically agreed, wondering what might go wrong if a few people found out what you were trying to do. And the hell was going to be raised when they found out. what happened to the unnamed man who tried to keep America thinking slavery was still a thing for a minority that was abused and mistreated. Nah, you didn’t feel the least bit guilty from what you were about to do.

\+ + +

Once night fell the four of you headed to the graveyard to complete this hunt once and for all. Most bodies you burned were six feet under and on the rarer occasions, hidden without a trace, which only made your job harder. There was a case you and the boys worked years back, when you first started hunting, with a spirit of a doctor who terrorized an abandoned mental institution on those who dared to enter. All it took was a touch from him to release all of his victim’s anger out.

The doctor wasn’t exactly a saint when he was alive, either. He saw the end of his days when the patients grew tired of his inhumane procedures and rioted, dragging him off to his exam room that was hidden away. After doing a little experiments of their own, the patients had killed him and stuffed his body in a metal cabinet where he would rot for decades and haunt the halls of the asylum, until you and Dean burned his bones. His death had remained a mystery, but you knew exactly what happened to him. Yet, you wondered who the unknown soldier was when he was alive, what happened to him that made him so angry?

There were few monsters you hunted that had a reason for why they became they did. Most of it was just how they were born into this world like shapeshifters and rougarus, but others might’ve been forced into the darkside by being turned into a vampire. And then you had creatures like demons and spirits who were once human. Demons were people who sold their souls for what reason that might have been, and spirits were souls who refused to cross the other side. There was a reason or something holding them down to this world. Sort of like this unknown soldier who had been quiet since his burial, but someone had woken him up, and he decided to raise some hell and seek some revenge. But you and the boys were about to put him to rest.

The cemetary was deserted from any living soul besides your own and the boys when you made your way inside the mausoleum after Dean picked the lock. You looked around the small room to see that everything looked to be in order, the tomb was untouched and the floors were clean, not a trace of anything unusual seemed to have taken place here. You were standing with your back to the door and your flashlight moving over the mural on the wall that appeared to be a scene straight of the civil war when Sam’s voice broke you out of your concentration.

“Place doesn’t look disturbed to me.” Sam noted. There were people in here just hours ago, but it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary had taken place here. “What’s the police report say?”

“Uh, they think it was just some kids messing around.” You told him, looking over your shoulder to the younger Winchester that stood next to the closed door. Most the damages the teens had done was erased. It was like it never happened. “They found some beer cans, some graffiti. Oh, and the casket was open when they got here, but they closed that back up.”

“Yea, but not before Casper had a chance to make a run for it.” Dean mumbled.

“So, what?” Sam asked, trying to make sense of what might have triggered the spirit to become active. “If they never touched this, none of this would be happening?”

“Yeah, according to Bobby.” Garth said.

“All right, well, let’s get this party started.” Dean said. You could tell from the look of it alone the tomb was gonna be a bitch to move. Sam dropped the duffel bag to the floor and got ready to pull out the salt and fluid lighter. However he found himself momentarily distracted when he saw something that appeared to be a piece of string just lying on the floor. “Sammy, you want to give me a hand?”

Sam looked up to see his brother in need of some extra muscle to help move the opening of the stone tomb. You stepped back and offered your flashlight as a guide to what they were doing so nobody got hurt. The three men worked together in pushing off the extremely heavy stone cover to the floor, the impact made the ground beneath your feet vibrate from the impact. When the corpse was uncovered, you leaned over to inspect the skeleton that was decked out head to toe in some gear that made you let out a quiet whistle in appreciation.

“Whoa. Check out this hardware.” Garth said with astonishment at what he was seeing himself. Being a history buff of the civil war, he knew some people who would lash out some big bucks to get their hands on some genuine weapons from that time period. “Do you guys know how much this is worth?”

“Yeah, but why open it up if you’re not gonna take anything?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know.” You said. You pulled out a book of matches from your back pocket you had been carrying around since leaving the motel and headed to the cemetery. “Maybe the cops showed up and they had split fast.”

“You sure this will work, even on a spectre?” Garth couldn’t help himself but ask. Bobby’s journal told you about what a spectre was and how to spot one, but it didn’t tell you had to get rid of it. You and the boys were going out on a limb here on what to do.

“It’s a ghost, isn’t it? Burn its bones, the ghost disappears.” Dean said, thinking this was the only way to solve your little problem. It made sense to do so. There didn’t appear to be anything missing in the tomb and the Lews weren’t holding anything in their possessions when they were possessed and attacked. At least, you thought.

Sam poured the gasoline all over the body as Garth dumped out the salt, the both of them made sure there was an even coat of both to make sure the bones would burn fast and quick. When you were about to set the body on fire, Garth stopped you before you could do so. You gave him a slightly confused look as to why. He felt that it would only be fair to conduct this with respect.

“Uh, I kind of feel like we should say something, alright?” Garth suggested. “Don’t you? Just…a little…”

You shrugged your shoulders at the idea as you looked over to the boys to see how they felt about what Garth wanted. Most of the time the three of you just burned the bones and went on your way. But this was someone that had died a nameless person, who left behind people and a family who had no clue what happened to him. Sam didn’t give much of a fuss, Dean offered to do the the honors. However he didn’t do it with much respect.

“Sure.” Dean agreed. “We won.”

You forced yourself not to laugh as you struck the match against the flimsy cardboard, letting a flame ignite. “I can only wonder what you said at my funeral.”

You looked over at the older Winchester, the small fire burning at the end of the match lit up your face, showing the smirk that spread at the ends of your lips before you caught the entire set of matches on fire. You threw them into the tomb before you could accidentally burn yourself and watched as the bones were engulfed in flames in the matter of seconds. You let out a sigh of relief and crossed your arms over your chest. You thought the hunt would finally be over after what you and the boys did, but this was only half of what you were about to face.

\+ + +

The next afternoon you and the boys were down at the police station with Garth when you found out there was yet another murder that left the assailant claiming he blacked out. It seemed your idea of burning the soldier’s bones wasn’t going to cut it. You watched from the corner of your eye as someone from the forensic team took a picture of the blood splatter of on the wall behind the sheriff’s desk after he got a bullet straight to the chest from a shotgun. What looked to be him enjoying his lunch ended with him being rolled out on a gunry by the coroner.

“Ten bones says the deputy Doug had an axe to grind with his boss.” Dean said.

“How can you be so sure?” Garth asked. Nobody just got the idea to shoot their boss out in the open like this. And Dean got a hint the deputy wasn’t himself when he pointed his finger to the tape dispenser that was covered in the same green ectoplasm you found in the previous two crime scenes. Garth’s face scrunched up slightly at the sight of the goo. “Ah, what the hell?”

“Maybe we torched the wrong red neck.” Dean suspected what was going on here.

“Or maybe not.” Sam said, stopping from all of you looking at this at a different angle. “Maybe an object

removed from the grave, something the spectre’s attaching itself to.”

“Like Bobby’s flask?” Dean wondered.

Spirits attaching themselves to an object they held dearly onto was nothing new you’ve seen before. Even a trace of someone like a piece of hair or a tooth could keep them stuck on earth. But you weren’t sure what could have been stolen from there that the soldier would have tried to keep himself attached to. “I don’t know, guys.” You said, casting your suspicions on the idea. “You saw what I did. Those kids didn’t take anything.”

“Or they did.” Sam said.

When the boys were running their mouths and arguing about the dumbest things, they made a good team at figuring out problems. The both of them concluded that the spectre was hitching a ride on the object the kids had stolen, and whoever held the object got possessed. It made for a good theory and explained what was going on here. But it still didn’t explain a few questions you had of your own.

“Okay. So, who’s got the object, and more importantly, who do they have a grudge against?”

You, the boys and Garth decided to talk to the sheriff to see what what he could remember after being possessed and killing the deputy. He surely had to remember what he grabbed from Scott’s personal belongings that sent him off into the rage that made him black out and kill the sheriff. But all the deputy could offer was the same guilt ridden expression as he sat on the cot in the cell he’d been sitting in since being snapped back into reality.

“All right. We need you to focus, deputy. Other lives depend on it.” Sam told the man. He sat at eye level with him as the rest of you stood back, waiting for any sort of information that would benefit you into figuring out what was going on here. “Tell me what happened after you shot the sheriff.”

“I was on the ground. I think Karl tackled me, and I asked him what happened.” The deputy told all of you his side of the story. Dean asked him what happened next. “He didn’t answer me. He just took my gun and walked away.”

“Did he say where he was going?” You asked him.

“I guess…I must have hurt him, too.” The deputy said. “He said he was going to the hospital.”

Your face fell at what you just heard come from the deputy’s mouth. If this Karl guy had gotten ahold of whatever the others had touched, it meant trouble for him and whoever was at the hospital. Not to mention the fact that he was running around with a shotgun hellbent on blowing someone’s brains out. You headed out of the cell with the boys to see what the next plan of action would be after learning there was someone else on the loose, possessed with the spirit of a spectre who loved making people seek revenge on the grudges they held against people.

“You two find out what you can about the unknown soldier. Sam, go with them to make sure they don’t kill each other.“ Dean said, tell all of you the plan. "I got the hospital.”

“Wait. Don’t you think it’s better if one of us goes with you?” You said as you stopped the older Winchester from heading off. You thought Dean going to the hospital by himself might be a bit of a dangerous move. Especially if he got in the way of what the spectre wanted Karl to do. “Take Sam. Garth and I are good.”

“Nah. I’ll be fine. And besides, you and the two halves of a whole idiot over there have got to find something.“ Dean said, nodding his head to the two men that stood just a few feet away.

You gave him a disapproving look from the unnecessary sarcasm he used. before he headed to the Impala to get a head start on the hospital. Dean was right about one thing. The three of you would surely be able to figure out who the unknown soldier was. You just had to head to the library and talk to a few locals to see if there was any theories over the years of who it might have been. However you found there was one problem, and that was the matter of getting there.

Garth had a two door car, which meant no backseat for you to sit in. Which meant you, Sam and Garth had to fit in there. One giant and a stringbean. You let out a sigh of annoyance and began heading out to the parking lot. Sure, it was gonna be a tight squeeze, but you’d manage.

\+ + +

The car ride to the library wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it was going to be. Garth was skinny enough where you could sit in the middle of the two men without having to worry about accidentally hitting Sam or kicking Garth in the shin. But you were happy to finally stretch your legs and adjust your outfit when you stepped onto the sidewalk. You headed up first to the library staircase, Garth followed behind you as he walked in sync with Sam, wanting to try and have the same sort of talk he had with you back at the motel yesterday afternoon. Now that he had some insight on what was going on, Garth felt the need to lend some help to ease tension between both of the brothers.

“Hey, uh, Sam. If you ever need to talk, I just want to let you know that I’m here. About anything, you know, life, uh, Dean, you.” Garth offered, but the younger Winchester politely smiled and refused the kind gesture. “I mean, it just seems like you and Dean are talking, but nobody’s listening to each other.”

“Welcome to my life.” You said from the top of the stairs. Garth began walking up them as Sam continued to stand on the first step, lost in his own personal thoughts. Garth went on a story for a moment or two about his cousin named Frank, You half listened as you headed into the library with Garth, not realizing that Sam was still outside. You made it a few steps before you figured out he was missing. Rolling your eyes, you quickly poked your head out to see Sam was right where you left him. "Sammy, you coming or not?”

Sam seemed to have broke himself out of his own thoughts at the sound of your voice. You raised your brow slightly in concern, Sam didn’t say anything as he headed up to meet you and Garth. The three of you found a librarian and told her about how you were interested in learning about history of the civil war, and if there was any possible people of whom might have been the unknown soldier. She seemed intrigued to help you, but found it a bit odd about why you wanted to try and identify the body of a man who had been dead for over two centuries now.

“You do know there is a good reason he’s called the unknown soldier, right?” She asked all of you, leading you down to the historical section of the library.

“Right. We were just hoping maybe a theory or two had been floating around over the years— something local, maybe?” You explained to her, hopeful she could give you something. And it seemed she could. The librarian skimmed a few old hardcovers before finding one in particular.

“There is one.” She pulled out a book and walked over to another bookshelf where she placed down the book and opened it up, flipping through the pages as she told you about the history of a possible lead about who was in the tomb. “Corporal Collins of the Union shot and killed his brother, Vance, who fought for the Confederacy. Local boys.”

“Wait, so two brothers fought on opposite sides of the civil war?” Sam asked.

“Legend has it that Vance swore vengeance on his brother with his dying breath.” She said. You looked down at the book to see she had stopped on a page with an old photograph of a man in uniform, holding his gun proudly against his chest. “Years later—consumed by guilt, no doubt—the corporal dug his brother up where he’d been buried him on the battlefield and brought him home.”

“Are you suggesting this Vance guy is the unknown soldier?” Garth asked her.

The librarian grew a smirk at his question, “That’s one theory, anyway.”

You examined the photograph for a moment and noticed there was something that caught your attention. You pointed what appeared to be a necklace and asked, “What’s this?”

“Most of the soldiers were poor farmers, so the families would give them a penny on a string.” The librarian explained to you. She turned a few pages to find a better picture of the necklace. You saw an old coin with a string on it in the small picture. “It was for good luck, and in case if they ever got lost, they always had a penny for food or drink.”

Sam found himself chuckling when a connection was made from what he found last night on the floor of the tomb where the unknown soldier was, “A penny.”

It was all making sense now. The object that was missing was the penny that Vance had, what he was attaching himself to. The string that Sam found on the floor was what was around the penny. The three of you headed out of the library and back to Garth’s car. You tried to get ahold of Dean to let him know what you found, but his phone went to voicemail. That almost never happened. He always answered his phone unless he was busy, or in trouble You had a bad feeling about all of this. The three of you loaded yourself back up into the car and made a stop to the hospital to see if you could find Dean there.

\+ + +

The trip to the hospital was an unsuccessful trip, all you found was broken glass and a very shaken up Carl from what he almost tried to do. He was able to tell you that Dean had been here, but that was about it. You thought that maybe he might have gotten back to the motel. It was the most logical thing you could think of. You still kept trying his cell, hopeful that he would pick up the damn thing. But it kept going straight to voicemail each time. You kept calling him even as you stepped into the motel room with Sam in front and Garth following behind you.

However you heard the echoing sound of a phone ringing just across from the room. You looked to see that the man you’d been trying to call over the past hour was sitting right at the edge of the bed, his phone lying right next to him. Your face scrunched up in annoyance as you ended the call, stopping the ringing. He didn’t say anything, he just sat there.

“Dean, what the hell?” You questioned him. “We went to the hospital. You’re not answering your phone.”

“Shut up.” You should’ve realized in that moment there was something wrong with Dean. But you were blind sided with anger at how he treated you, you didn’t realize the man you were talking about wasn’t him. He pushed himself up to his feet and cocked his pistol he’d been holding since he got here. You noticed that there was something dripping out of his ear, green ectoplasm. When you realized that, it was too late to do anything. Dean was pointing a loaded gun straight at his brother. He was possessed. And he had an axe to grind with his brother. “You should have looked for me when I was in purgatory, Sam.”

\+ + +

At this moment, seeing Dean with all logic thrown out of his brain and pointing a gun at his little brother, you were regretting not going to the hospital with him Because if you did, maybe there was a small chance none of this would be happening. You had a feeling Dean had fallen victim to the spectre, he was the perfect one he was looking for. Holding a grudge against his brother, secretly itching for some payback after what he did to him. There was no chance in hell you were going to be able to talk some sense into him while he was holding the penny. But you’d be damned if you weren’t going to try.

“Come on, Dean.” Sam tried to be the voice of reason here before someone could get hurt. He knew his brother’s anger was directed towards him alone. “I know it’s not you in there pulling the strings.”

“Shut up!” Dean hissed at his little brother, not in the mood to hear some piss poor excuse out of the man’s mouth. You narrowed your eyes on him as you slowly reached for your own gun that was nestled in the waistband of your pants. You thought he was distracted by his own rage he wouldn’t see you trying to make this an even fight, but you were quickly caught. “Don’t!”

“What are you gonna do, Dean?” You couldn’t help yourself but push his buttons. “Shoot me?”

“How about you do us all of a favor and mind your damn business? This ain’t about you, Y/N. It never was. It’s about him.” Dean pointed the loaded gun back at his brother. You swallowed slightly from the one outcome that was going to happen if you let this continue on. “You never even wanted this life. Always blamed me for pulling you back into it.”

“That’s not true.” Sam defended himself against the older man’s judgement.

“Really?” Dean questioned him. You could hear the pure anger dripping off of his voice from the tone of his voice. Never in your life have you ever seen him act this way around Sam. “‘Cause everything you’ve ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Sam asked. He thought all of this was lead on from the things he did in his life. Moments in his life that he weren’t proud of. But he was a human being. All of you made mistakes. Even Dean himself. “That I’ve made mistakes? I’ve made mistakes, Dean.”

“That’s not Dean, Sam.” Garth warned the younger Winchester in a hushed voice.

“Shut up!” Dean roared the command at the other hunter. You had to admit you were a bit taken back at how loud and aggressive he was turning into. He was blinded by his own rage, and he found it a bit comical at how Sam thought all of his decisions that he made over the years were merely choices in his life that he regretted. “Mistakes? Well, let’s go through some of Sammy’s greatest hits. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. How about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me think that you were dead while you’re doing all kinds of crazy. Like sleeping with Y/N behind my back. And lying to my face when I asked you if you were.”

“Yeah. Don’t ask. It’s a long story.” You whispered to Garth when you saw his face scrunch up slightly at what he heard. You and the boys shared a very strange and close family bond, you’d admit that in a heartbeat. But there was a point when you got out of hell with a messed up mind-frame that you blamed yourself for. But it seemed that Dean thought what his brother participated in while he was soulless was his fault alone. And all of you made bad decision, not just Sam. You tuned your gaze over to the older Winchester and gave him a dirty glare from how he was acting. "Are you still holding onto that? I told you, Dean. It was my fault. And as for the things Sam did…we all made mistakes. Don’t act like you’re perfect. None of us are.”

“Those aren’t mistakes, Y/N. If you weren’t so blinded by Sam’s puppy dog look you would’ve realized by now that all he does is bring us down. But no. You always have to be the one to try and coddle him. After everything that he’s done—wanting to quit hunting, starting the apocalypse. You always had to hold his hand and tell him that everything was gonna be okay.“ Dean said in almost a mocking tone. How he felt about your friendship with Sam was nothing new. But he was acting like you were part of the problem.. "Those are choices that you ignored!”

“All right. You said it. But don’t blame Y/N. She was just trying to help.” Sam defend you against his brother’s wrath. “This is just between you and me. We’ve both played a little fast and loose.”

“Yeah, I might have lied, but I never once betrayed you. I never once left you to die. And for what, a girl?” Dean said, getting to the point where he was holding the grudge against Sam. It was all about the decision that his brother made. And it hit something inside of Sam that made him want to kill his brother. It would have been like if Sam said something about you. You knew this woman was important to him, but you didn’t realize until now. “You left me to die for a girl?!”

Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He took his chance to get the coin out of his brother’s hand when he grabbed ahold of the gun to aim it at the floor as he swung his fist at Dean’s face, stunning him momentarily. You watched as Sam shoved his brother backwards into a wall where there happened to be a mirror. Dean broke the glass over the floor while Sam managed to squeeze in a few more punches as the both of them struggle to gain control of the gun. But Dean decided to play dirty against his little brother to win the fight.

You winced slightly as Dean swung up his fist at the younger Winchester, stunning him enough to let him free his grip around the gun. Dean then headbutted his brother to give him a bit of distance before kicking the man straight into the stomach with his leg, making Sam stumble backwards until he broke his fall on the coffee table that broke from his body weight. Sam rolled over on the floor as he tried to regain his composure from the blows. You knew it’d be a matter of seconds until Dean would pull the trigger, and before he could do so, you put yourself in the line of fire, giving it one last shot to stop all of this.

“Hey, hey, hey!” You shouted at the older Winchester to get his attention. “Snap out of it, Dean.”

“Y/N, don’t.” Sam warned you, not wanting to put yourself in danger like this.

"No, he won’t kill me. Sure, we don’t see eye to eye all the time, but he’d never do anything to hurt me.” You said. You were confident that the man standing in front of you still had some common sense left in him to realize that he was about to make a terrible decision. And you were trying to help them. “You’re not gonna shoot me, are you, Dean? I’ve never done anything to betray you.”

Dean proved himself wrong when he pointed his gun at you, “Move.”

“After everything you two have been through, this is what it comes down to? No. I won’t let you. You’ve been protecting him your whole life.” You reminded him about the bond he had with his little brother. It wasn’t perfect, but he’d do anything for Sam. “Don’t stop now.”

“He left me to rot in purgatory!” Dean said, as if he hadn’t made that clear enough.

“Right. And you’ve never once let him down. You’ve never once thought about letting him die. What about the time he was detoxing from the demon blood for the first time? You were so ready to let him rot in there and die. Because you were scared of him being different.“ You said, pulling that memory from the depths of a time in your life where it was complicated and painful. Maybe it wasn’t exactly the same thing what Sam had done to his brother, but you weren’t there.

"The three of us have done stupid things for love. And I’m sure Sam had his reasons.”

“Just like you had your reasons for Benny.” Sam said, adding more fuel to the fire.

“Oh my god!” You grumbled underneath your breath, rolling your eyes from the argument they were about have right now. “Do we really have to do this again?”

“Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you’ve ever been!” Dean shouted. You had to admit that was a low blow for the man to make. You felt yourself being pushed to the breaking point about how he was talking about his brother. “That’s right. Cas let me down. You let me down. The only person that hasn’t let me down is Benny.”

“Really? Really?!” You found yourself suddenly pushed to the edge of what he was saying. You didn’t care that Dean was holding a loaded gun, you didn’t care that he was possessed by a ghost that wanted nothing but revenge. You walked a few steps until you were nearly inches from him. If he wanted to shoot you, he was going to have a hell of a hard time after you knocked him out. “Was Benny there for you when you didn’t want to go to hell? Was Benny there for you when you were ready to lie down like a dog and say yes to Michael?! Has Benny there for you when you were lying in your own self pity? No, he wasn’t.”

"Since the three of us got back together the only thing the both of you have been doing is fighting. And I’m so sick and tired of it. It’s exhausting. And frankly, I don’t know how much more of it I can take. I can’t blame Sam for what he did. Because we’ve all done it at some point. You too, Dean. Do I have to remind you about Lisa?” You told him how you felt about this entire fight and how you were being pushed to your limits. The mention of a familiar name should have snapped Dean back into reality, but the mention of his old flame made his grip around the gun tighten. "I know you’re angry. But, Dean, you’ve got to fight this. Do not do this! After everything we’ve been through, this is where it ends?”

You could try all you want to talk some sense into Dean, but it wouldn’t listen to anything you said. Not with the coin in his hands controlling his thoughts. Dean was ready to shoot his brother. But not if you could help it. Without even thinking, you reached up and swung your fist directly at him, not realizing that you had accidentally aimed for his nose, and using all the force you had to make sure it hurt. You quickly yanked the gun out of his hands and unloaded the clip as the coin fell out of Dean’s grip, falling to the floor as he came back into reality.

“Damn it! God,” You found yourself shouting out a profanity at the throbbing pain suddenly in your fingers. You hissed at the pain as shook your hand in hopes the pain would fade. “That was dumb. Really dumb.”

You should have thrown the punch with a better formed fist, because your hand was starting to hurt from what you had done in order to knock some sense back into Dean. What you had done worked at least, the man found himself back into reality with a throbbing nose from the punch. He wiped away some blood after what you had done, and some of the goo from his ear. Garth noticed the coin was on the floor and bent down to grab it before either one of you could do it and land yourself into another round of trouble.

Despite the warning you gave him to not do so, Garth seemed unfazed by the curse that was brought on by whoever touched it. He reassured all of you that it was all good. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing well enough the hunt was finally over. And you stopped Dean from killing his brother. You’d call that a successful hunt.

\+ + +

Later into the evening all of you were packed up and ready to go, Garth had been the one who discard of the penny so no one would be affected by the spectre’s curse again. You and Dean followed the man to his car to wish him a farewell and a safe trip out of here. Sam decided to stick back at the motel to do some more packing and take some personal time to himself. You couldn’t blame him. After all of those things his brother said, you knew it was going to be an awkward trip until the next town. You didn’t mention anything or asked how he was feeling. You let him have his space and figure out how he was going to handle it by himself.

“It took me forever to melt that penny, but it’s finally gone.” Garth said. He walked over to his beat up car and dropped his bag into the trunk. You had to wonder how he managed to keep going in that thing when it looked like it was about ready to die.

“How come that penny didn’t jack you like everyone else?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask. “I mean, I can understand why it didn’t affect the kid who took it. He’s young and innocent. But everyone at some point in their life feel like they’ve been screwed.”

“Not me, man. I let all that stuff go with the help of my Yogi, my sega genesis. And you should, too. You can’t change the past, amigo. Now, there’s something I want to say to you. Stop being an idjit!” Garth told the man. You found yourself cracking a smile at the term he was using properly, but Dean was a bit taken back. "With Bobby Dead, the three of you are all each other has. And that’s not so bad, man. Now, you know what’s coming next, right?”

Dean knew exactly what the hunter was going to do, and much as he wanted to try and back out, Garth wouldn’t take no for an answer. He unwillingly let the man give him a quick hug as he looked around the parking a lot to see if there was anyone around. But the only souls were the three of you. You rolled your eyes at Dean’s behavior. He pulled away after a moment and managed to skip out, mumbling an excuse of not wanting this chick flick moment to go on any longer. You told him you’d meet him back at the motel, wanting to say goodbye to Garth in privacy. When Dean was out of sight, you pulled something familiar out of your back pocket.

"Oh. Before I forget.” You said. You took out Bobby’s old hat and fixed it up so it was back to normal. You reached out and put it on Garth’s head, reassuring him that once again you were okay with him being Bobby. He had the personality for it, and you couldn’t picture anyone but him. “Keep on truckin’, Garth.”

You knew there was no way he was going to let you say goodbye without a hug, too. Garth was just the type of guy who loved to give hugs. You opened up your arms and embraced him into a tight hug, like how the one he gave you when the both of you first met. You pulled away from the man when you felt something start to vibrate underneath his jacket. The sound of a familiar tune you swore you’d beat the guy up if you heard it started to go off. But it made you smile at how much of a dork he was, and how much you were happy that your idea of him changed. He said a final goodbye to you as he headed to his car and got inside.

“Yo, Lamar. What do we got? Wendigo? You got a flare gun? No? What about a flame thrower? Then you’d better get some sneakers, buddy, ‘cause you’re gonna have to run. All right.“ Garth ended the call after giving some hunter advice on how to take care of a nasty monster that could only be taken down by fire. You never seen Garth without a smile. It was one of the few things you rarely seen Bobby do. However the man was starting to check on with the language the old man used. Garth’s engine wouldn’t start, the only noise that would come out was a sputtering noise. His smile faded as he suddenly grew aggravated. Garth hit the steering wheel in frustration and shouted, “Balls!”

You raised your brow slightly from his outburst, Garth inhaled a deep breath and decided to try one last time to start his car. And it seemed to work. You gave him a finger salute to wish him goodbye as he gave you a thumbs up. You couldn’t help yourself but smile as Garth drove off to wherever the road lead him as he played Bobby. One problem was solved, but yet another one waited for you. You headed over to the Impala when you saw both of the boys standing there. You were hesitant to even ask if the both of them were okay. The look on Sam’s face was enough to show you that he had told his brother about how he felt after Dean got the chance. You inhaled a deep breath, deciding to try and ease the tension by offering a chance for a quiet dinner before heading off.

“So…I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.” You said as you approached the Impala and stopped near the trunk. “I spotted a Chinese place just a few miles up the road. And I’ve been having a serious crazy. Maybe all of us could grab a bite.”

Dean would always jump on the opportunity for something to eat. But it seemed he decided to back out on this one. “Nah. I’m not hungry. I think I’ll…stick around here for a little while. Clean up some of the mess and check to see if there’s any new leads on Kevin.”

"What about you, Sammy?” You asked the younger man with a hopeful expression. “We haven’t had a chance for some quality time in a while. Treat your best friend to dinner.”

Sam thought about it for a moment as he decided what he wanted to do. Normally he would have decided to just hit the road and grab something on the way out of town, but he sort of liked the idea of something that wasn’t from a greasy fast food joint. And he couldn’t remember the last time you and him were alone. Not to mention the best part of it all, his brother wouldn’t be there. The younger man grabbed the keys to the Impala from his brother and headed out.

\+ + +

It actually felt nice for the first time in forever to have a sit down dinner with Sam, no hunt or problem to bother you. No constant worry in the back of your mind about what was wrong with the man. Everything was normal, in a sense. You gave the man sitting across from the table a smile as you dug more into the food you ordered. You were already planning on cleaning your plate with the way your stomach was growling on the way here. Both of you made conversation on simple topics while you ate the meals you ordered. Neither one of you talked about what happened earlier today, not even about how he was feeling. You knew it was something you had said you were going to let them handle, but there was something you’d been eager to learn more about since you were reunited with Sam.

“Can I ask you something?” You spoke for the first time after a minute of silence fell between the both of you. Sam shrugged his shoulders as he continued chewing the piece of food in his mouth. You set down your chopsticks and thought for a moment about how you were going to approach this. “You know I’ll always support you no matter what. Right?”

Sam raised his brow slightly, “That’s your question?”

“Shut up. No. I just wanted to make that clear.” You said, rolling your eyes as you started to pick up a piece of your food. However it lingered above your plate as you finally asked him what you had been bugging the back of your mind. “The girl that you met last year…You’ve never told me her name. Hell, anything about her. Besides the fact that you met her after hitting a dog. By the way, did the poor thing come out alive?“

"Yeah. His name was Riot. I accidentally fractured two of his legs and caused some internal bleeding, but he made a full recovery. I took care of him for that year.” Sam reassured you, making a smile spread across his lips at the concern you showed for the dog. You were happy to hear that, but your curiosity lingered onto the woman who saved the day and captured Sam’s heart. “Her name’s Amelia. Amelia Richardson. She’s a veterinarian who helped nurse Riot back to health. She was going through a few things herself when the both of us met.”

Sam told you about how she had moved to Texas out of the blue after her husband, Don, had died in the war overseas. She was tired of seeing all the sympathetic faces, she just wanted to run from it all. And Sam knew the feeling. You understood that what connected them was the grief they shared, but it wasn’t just that. Amelia was smart, funny and everything that he needed during that time. “She seems like a nice girl, Sammy.”

“She is. She and I had a place in Kermit, Texas. Everything was good for a while.” Sam said. You wondered if what he meant by that was Dean coming back from purgatory, dragging him back into the hunting world again he wanted to leave. But it wasn’t that. “Turned out her husband was alive. Kinda put me in a bit of an awkward spot.”

“Oh.” You mumbled, not seeing that twist coming. “What happened?”

“Don seemed okay with me staying with her. Long as she was happy, that’s all he cared about. But…I don’t know. I’m still wondering about what I should do.” Sam admitted to you. You nodded your head slowly at the struggle he was facing. It was still going to be a while until he could go back to that lifestyle he wanted his entire life with Kevin gone and the tablet missing. You were about to finally take that bite when Sam decided to ask you a question. “Do you remember the life you had before? Being Y/F/N and everything?“

You nodded your head as you chewed the bit of food in your mouth before swallowing it down. “Yeah. I do.”

"Do you miss it?” Sam couldn’t himself but ask.

You fell silent from his question that had to make you think about what your response was going to be. You inhaled a deep breath and gave him your honest answer. “Parts of it. I miss the job. It was actually kind of fun. And sure, I miss not know about the creepy and crawly. But you know what I missed the most about having a normal life? Having a bed of my own.” You said. Sam agreed with you on that, but you weren’t done yet explaining yourself on why. “It’s not just a clean bed I miss. It’s somewhere to call home. Knowing there’s somewhere that’s all my own. Where I can relax and feel safe…ish.“

“Yeah. I miss that, too.” Sam admitted. "But too bad it’s not exactly possible with this lifestyle.”

“Who says it isn’t? Bobby had his place, I was fine for all those years. I mean, it’s possible for some people. Why not us?” You asked him, as if you were expecting him to answer. But he fell silent from your question as he turned his attention back to his food. You let out a quiet sigh and picked at your own with the chopsticks. “You know all I want is for you to be happy, Sammy.”

“I know, Y/N. And I appreciate that.” Sam said with sincerity. “I always have.”

"Good. Because I’m gonna sound like a bitch from what I’m about to say next.” You said. Sam furrowed his brow in slight confusion. “Amelia better be worth it to throw all of this away. It’s a freaking huge risk. I just don’t want you or her to get heartbroken at the end of all of this.”

"No. I understand. I do.” Sam said, agreeing with your caution. “I love her, Y/N. In a way that I haven’t loved any girl before. She understand what’s it’s like to lose someone.”

“And have them come back to life.” You couldn’t help yourself but add that in. Sam found himself lettin gout a chuckle from your humor and had to agree with you on that point. You picked up another piece of food, but before you took a bite, you looked at him with a serious expression. “If I have to be honest, I hate the idea of you leaving, Sammy. I’ll miss you. I know Dean will, too. We are the only family we have left. The selfish part of me wants you to keep hunting with us. But I also want you to have a home. One that you deserve, Dean, too. Both of you never had that. I…I just want you two to feel like a family again.”

“And we will.” Sam reassured you. “It’s just gonna take some time, Y/N.”

You let out a quiet sigh and nodded your head, understanding there was still some bad blood between the both of them that wasn’t going to go away quick as you hoped. You were about to take another bite of your food when the chopsticks suddenly fell out of your grip and hit the plate. Both of your hands pressed themselves against your chest when you felt an aching pain come out of nowhere. Sam suddenly gave you a concerned look from what you were doing. He spoke your name to make sure you were all right.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s just…” You cupped one of your breasts as you felt a pain that you never had before. You’ve dealt with tenderness when you were PMSing, but you hadn’t seen much symptoms over the past few weeks. While you were starting to grow a bit nervous from how late you were, you should’ve been reassured from the sudden pain. And not to mention the mood swings alone. But this was a pain you’ve never experienced before. You inhaled a deep breath and adjusted yourself in your seat. “My boobs hurt really badly all of a sudden.”

“You gonna make it?” Sam asked you. “Or do I have to rush you to the ER?”

You narrowed your eyes on the man from his sarcasm and pretended to let out a chuckle. “No. But keep it up with the sass and you’ll be the one being wheeled off, Sasquatch.”

“I’m so scared.” Sam mumbled. You rolled your eyes as you continued eating your meal with another few bites as Sam reached for the bowl of fortune cookies brought over in the beginning of the meal. He grabbed one for himself and offered you one. He ripped open the package and cracked the cookie to see what the small piece of paper said. His lips stretched into a smile as he read it out loud for you to hear. “'Stop searching forever. Happiness is just next to you.’”

“How fitting.” You said with a smile of your own. You finally cracked open your own cookie and unraveled the small piece of paper to see what it said. While Sam’s was sweet, yours made little sense to you. ”'A small package is on its way to you.’ Huh. I wonder what that could mean.”

“Who knows.” Sam mumbled. “Maybe it means we’re one step closer to Kevin.”

You let out a chuckle from the terrible remark as you set the piece of paper down to the table and continued on eating your meal in peace. The both of you forgot about the incident with Dean and the nasty things you said to each other just a few days ago out of tension. You talked about how much you wanted to kill Garth, but changed your mind about him. Sam told you about the hunt where he and Dean met the other hunter for the first time.

The evening went on smoothly as the both of you shared a rare moment as best friends. It made Sam realize how much he missed you for those two years while you were gone. From your sense of humor to the nickname, to how you laughed and the stories you told in such a way they never felt old. And the support you gave him no matter what. He felt his heart sink at the idea of him not being around for you.

Sam wanted that normal life with Amelia, more than anything he wanted in his life. Because, sure, she knew what it was like to lose someone. But she was so many things that he grew to love about her over the year they shared together. And yet…he found himself wondering if he could do it. Could he really leave behind the family that he had? His brother was a pain in his ass, but they fought about the dumbest things from time to time. He knew that in a matter of time the both of them would overcome this. Yet…his brother wasn’t the only reason he’d miss this life. It was you. He just got you back into his life, and while things were going slow with the hunt for Kevin, he knew it was going to be a matter of time until he had to choose.


	6. A Little Slice of Kevin.

For the first time since being reunited back together as a family, things seemed to be looking up. The brothers didn’t mention once about the argument they’d been sharing over the past several weeks. No mention of Benny, no muttered remark about what Sam decided to do with his year free from you and Dean. All of you kept your head down and focused on what was the most important thing to you right now, finding Kevin Tran and his mother before he could get himself into serious trouble. You knew the trail was still cold as the first day you started. But you’d be damned if you were going to let that kid outsmart you and stay on the run all from what a demon said.

You and the boys had been staying at Rufus’ cabin over the past few days while keeping an eye on Kevin’s nervously quiet activity and the headlines if anything caught your attention. You were laying low during this slow period. Sam was at the cabin doing some daily search when you and Dean decided to swing into town for a food run when you noticed you were getting low. A quick trip ended with you standing in the snack section for a good ten minutes, just trying to decide what you wanted. It was down to two appetizing looking bags, however you decided to just stick with the usual favorite Dean was a little peeved at all the time you wasted, you smiled as you passed by, promising you’d share on the drive back .

You had every intention of keeping to your word and sharing the bag with Dean that was far too much for one person to consume in one sitting. But you made it all of five seconds in line before you opened up the bag, just to eat one or two…However any sort of self control you thought you had seemed to disappear when you got the first taste. Your stomach growled, loud enough for you to hear, urging you to keep going. It was as if you didn’t have two hearty bowls of cereal this morning and a few cups of coffee on top of it to settle you over.

Since wrapping up the hunt with Garth you noticed you were always hungry, more than you had ever been before in your life. You didn’t have an insatiable hunger that made you want a twelve course meal, instead you found yourself nibbling on an extra snack or mindlessly looking for something to eat after having a meal just an hour later. Dean joked that you might have gotten a tapeworm because all of the extra eating you were doing wasn’t showing. However the hunger wasn’t the only thing that was off. You had this suddenly strong sense of smell that made most things you didn’t even notice unbearable, sometimes to the point where you felt nauseous.

When you were in line waiting to check out with Dean and quietly putting your hand into the snack bag, you caught a whiff of those questionable looking hot dogs. The smell of the prepared food that looked like it had been sitting out all morning along with the woman’s perfume that stood in front of you made you almost lose your appetite. You complained about it on the way out of the store, thinking Dean had gotten a whiff of the deadly combination as well. He looked at you with a funny expression, because he couldn’t smell anything. He made a remark that you were losing your mind, you rolled your eyes.

You didn’t put much thought into it and soon enough you were back in the passenger seat of the Impala with Dean to your left. You promised Dean you’d share the bag with him after he grew annoyed with the tedious amount of time you spent on it. However you found yourself not keeping true to your word as your hand so long in the bag Dean couldn’t sneak a bite, the other was holding your cell phone when you gotten a text from Josh. It wasn’t a lead on Kevin, but he spotted a news article that was a bit weird. You put your hand out of the bag and wiped the crumbs on your jeans to continue writing your text to Josh about sending the article over to Sam for him to look over. You didn’t notice that while you did so, Dean took his opportunity.

Dean was about to sneak his hand inside the bag and sneak a few pieces of the junk food for him to enjoy on the drive back to Rufus’ cabin. The sign singling six miles back to the sight passed by him. As he looked around the road to see if he could spot any wildlife in the miles of woods surrounding the both of you, Dean caught sight of something. More like someone. In the times he’d drove down the way to Rufus’ cabin he had never seen any living soul walking on the side of the road. Looked like someone was enjoying the afternoon and what nature had to offer. Dean was about to point out the person as the both of you got close. But when he got a better look, he found himself turning his head to stare out the passenger side window.

It wasn’t some tree hugging hippie, it was someone the both of you knew. Filthy, the hospital clothes and trench coat he wore were since the first night he met him was covered in blood and dirt from where he came from. Dean didn’t think twice about it when he slammed his foot on the brakes. It had to be him. Who he saw was Castiel, the angel he swore he left behind. in purgatory. The one who chose to stay there after everything. And now he was back. He had to be.

You were about ready to hit the send button on your phone when you felt the Impala suddenly stop to a jerking holt. You managed to get a good grip on the bag and your phone before they went flying, neither which would make you happy. You turned your head up the road to see what had made Dean decide to slam on the break. You furrowed your brow slightly when you cautiously looked around at the road, and then to the forest. There was no other soul around except for yours and Dean’s. No woodland creature, no random stranger appearing out of the middle of nowhere. To Dean, there was someone here. Someone he thought he would never see again.

Dean switched the gears into reverse as he hit the gas again and drove back to a few feet from where the both of you came from until he was parked next to the bear carved out of wood that told you the cabin would be coming up in the next half dozen miles. You followed his gaze, thinking you might have accidentally missed something, distracting you as Dean slipped himself out of the car. When you turned your head back to look at the man, he was already standing outside with the car door wide open and he was already out of the car, trying to find something that wasn’t there. You got out of the car yourself and went to see if you might have accidentally missed something. But all you saw was the miles of forest in front of you. 

“Dean?” You mumbled the man’s name quietly as you turned your head to look at him again. He didn’t hear you for a moment as he kept staring out into the distance. A bad feeling began to sit in the pit of your stomach when you noticed the haunted look on his face. “Are you okay?”

“What?” He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard your voice speak his name for the second time in a row, louder when he didn’t respond to your concerning question. Dean finally looked away from the spot where he swore he saw a stranger that was a friend the both of you lost and back to you. He didn’t know what was going on for a second, but he realized what he had did when he saw your worried expression. It seemed that you didn’t see what he did. Dean cleared his throat and tried to compose himself. “I’m fine. I…I thought I just saw something.”

You raised your brow slightly, hoping he would elaborate on his vague answer. But he didn’t say anything. He just slid himself back into the car, a few moments later you did the same when you took another glance around the wilderness to see it was just as empty as it was the first time you tried to see the person Dean did. When the both of you were inside, Dean put the car back into drive and pressed his foot on the gas, sending the Impala forward and back on the journey to the cabin. You sent the message off to Josh as Dean turned the music back on to block out the conversation he thought you were going to try to have with him. Instead you continued on with the silence. You stretched out your arm that held the bag to Dean. He took one hand off the wheel and took a few for himself. Neither one of you said anything on the back way to the cabin.

\+ + +

Soon enough you were back to where you and the boys had been staying at since things had been slow. You were working on your way of opening up the car door when you felt the feeling hit you like a ton of a bricks—it started in your stomach, that churning feeling you knew too well from being sick and a few too many hangovers. You quickly jumped out of the car like a bat out of hell before you could get the leather seats covered. You ran fast as you could, the feeling slowly cripping to your throat as you felt your skin break out into a cold sweat.

The front door to the cabin swung open as you passed Sam who was sitting at the table with his laptop open and looking over the news article Josh had sent him fifteen minutes ago. Sam was about to say hello to you, but he didn’t even get the chance to look away from his screen before he saw you running for dear life to the bathroom. He furrowed his brow slightly when he heard the door slam shut, a few seconds later a string of very uncomfortable noises echoed through the cabin, making him grimace as his stomach began to feel uneasy when he realized what you were doing. You were in the bathroom on your knees with your face in the toilet, vomiting up the contents of the last meal you ate and the snack you had on the way back.

You felt the feeling pass when you got everything out of your stomach and straight into the toilet. Without looking, you managed to flush the content down and move yourself so you were sitting on the floor of the bathroom with your back pressed against the wall. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you inhaled a deep breath from what just unfolded without warning. One minute you were perfectly fine, and the next minute you were puking your guts out. You felt a little better, but the queasy feeling still lingered with the aftertaste of bile still in your mouth.

“Y/N?” You heard someone knock softly a few times on the door, making you realize it was Sam. You heard his muffled voice of concern from behind the wood after he saw you running for your life. You slowly leaned forward and pushed yourself back up to your feet. The door opened a moment later to see the man himself with his hand ready to knock again. He gave you a concerned look as he leaned over slightly to see what unfolded. “You okay? Sounded like you were…”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You reassured the younger Winchester as you gave him a small smile. You managed to slide past him and head to the kitchen counter where Dean was as well, putting away the six pack of beer into the fridge and grabbing one for himself. He offered you one, but the thought of drinking a beer made your stomach crunch again. You shook your head and grabbed a clean glass and ran it over the tap to wash the taste out of your mouth and spitting into the sink. “So, Josh texted me earlier. Said he had something for us.”

"Yeah. This kid went missing from a preschool.” Sam said. He took his place back at his laptop and brought up the news article he was reading over just a few minutes before you arrived. Dean shrugged off his jacket and tossed it somewhere in the cabin, mumbling about how that sucked, not sure what the big deal was. “And at the same time he vanished, a surprise tornado hits, lasted maybe twenty seconds, then, uh…shazam! Back to perfect weather.”

“Hmm.” Dean mumbled, sounding interested. “And they pooh-pooh climate change.”

“Well other similar wackiness has happened over the past few weeks in other places—uh, tulsa, a bus driver vanishes and a river gets overrun with frogs.” Sam told you a few other cases that sounded like your kind of thing. Strange disappearances and supernatural aftermath. You were intrigued to learn what this was all about. “New Mexico—a mailman disappears, the earth splits open.”

“All right. So,” You walked over to the table and loomed over Sam’s shoulder as you examined the laptop screen to see what Josh had come up with. You had to admit this kind of stuff wasn’t just strange coincidences on their own, you had a suspect of who could be blamed for this. “You thinking demons?”

“Yeah, possibly, but…I mean, this stuff was major. These folks have nothing in common—no religious affiliations, different hometowns, all ages.” Sam said. There was no connection, no sort of reason why demons would snatch them up from what you could see. But there was always a reason they were causing trouble. “Why would demons want them?”

“Why do demons want anything?” Dean asked, posing a question you’d never get the answer to.

You wondered if this was something the boys would have been interested enough to look into, Sam seemed on board with the idea as Dean thought to himself that it would be a good thing to keep himself busy. When demons were involved most of the time it lead directly to their boss, the king himself. Which meant that perhaps there was a chance all of you could have a talk with the son of a bitch and get that tablet back. And when you got it back into your possession, maybe there was a small chance you could find Kevin. Maybe you were jumping ahead of yourself, but that kid was out there, and you were going to find him. Along with the others who vanished without a trace.

\+ + +

A few days later you and the boys were in the town Aaron Weber vanished without a trace, the first step in figuring out what happened was talking to the last person who was with the kid. You arrived at the household of Elizabeth Hager early into the evening dressed in your usual formal FBI outfits so you wouldn’t give her the wrong impression of what you were doing here. Sam knocked on the front door, and just a few moments later you saw a figure pop out from the corner from the window looking into the house.

You guessed it was Mrs. Hager from the nervous expression on her face from the unexpected visitors at this late hour. You and the boys pulled out your fake badges and lifted them up to the window to show her that you were here on police “business.” You gave her a friendly smile to give her some reassurance. The woman slowly approached the door and unlocked the deadbolt to open, but you noticed the chain was still in tact when the door was only opened a crack to reveal only a sliver of her.

“Mrs. Hager? Agents Roth, Malloy and Weaver.” You introduced yourself to the woman as you slipped your badge into your pocket for safekeeping until the next time you’d need it. “We want to speak to you about Aaron Webber’s abduction.”

“Like I told the police,” Mrs. Hager repeated the statement she gave last week. “One minute I was taking Aaron to get cleaned up, and the next minute…I woke up in a park three blocks away.”

“And you have no memory of what happened?” Sam questioned the woman.

“No.” She admitted, shaking her head. “He was just gone.”

“Can you think any reason why somebody would want to harm him?” Dean asked her, giving the same kind of routine questions the police had when they interviewed her. “Um, any enemies?”

“Enemies? He’s five.” Mrs. Hager said. Her face scrunched up slightly from his rather odd sounding question. Dean gave her a small smile, you forced yourself not to roll your eyes. A better way to phrase the question to make this sound like a formal interview was to ask if the parents had any enemies that would want to harm their child. But before you could, her attention moved over to Sam, who had pulled out his cell phone and began to quietly murmur something she couldn’t quite understand. “Excuse me?”

“It’s, uh, code for your own safety so that you can’t reveal anything under enhanced interrogation.” Dean came up with possibly the flimsiest lie he could think of as his brother quietly whispered the exorcism spell underneath his breath, wondering if she would react. Before Mrs. Hager could try and ask any questions of her own, Dean quickly spoke again. “Now, when you woke up on the floor, were there any signs of a struggle?”

“No.” She said.

“Smell like sulfur?” You asked her, already having a feeling you knew her answer. Mrs. Hager’s expression dropped as she stared at you, a bit startled from how you could have known that. You gave her a half smile and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. "Lucky guess. Thank you for your time.”

Mrs. Hager stepped back into her home and shut the door behind her as the three of you made your way down her porch steps and headed to the Impala parked right besides the sidewalk. It was pretty clear the woman you spoke to was human, but you would bet ten bucks a demon decided to take a spin in her body to get what they wanted, which was a five year old. What they wanted with a child and all those people was still unknown, but you were betting it was for a bad reason. It always was. And you needed to find them before one of them got hurt, if they already weren’t. Or worst case scenario—dead.

\+ + +

Once you got back to the motel a short after speaking to Mrs. Hager and doing a bit more research, you decided at a normal hour you were going to bed. You felt exhausted for whatever reason and complained about a headache that seemed to come out nowhere. So you occupied your side of the bed, drifting off to sleep by the sound of the storm outside and the occasional typing sounds Dean was making on the laptop. He couldn’t sleep, so he distracted himself by trying to figure out the reason why these people went missing in the first place and if there were any more victims to add to the list.

Dean sat up in bed with the laptop making a decent amount of light in the dark room. Every so often he looked away from the screen to see if the light was bothering you. But you remained still at his side, your sleeping face up in bed made a small smile spread across his lips, making him think to himself about how adorable you looked before turning his attention back to the research to continue on. He skimmed the news article about the missing kid to see if there was something that might have been helpful.

Another rumble of thunder echoed from outside as a flash of lightning lit up the sky and the motel. He turned his head slightly to the window to see how the progression of the storm was coming along. However he found himself glued to the window at the sight of a shadowy figure standing in front of the window. Dean felt his heartbeat suddenly spike up at who he saw. It was a familiar face he saw just a few days ago. It had to be him.

Dean shut the laptop and threw it to the end of the bed and got himself out of bed, forgetting about your sleeping body next to him. He wandered over to the window and stood there for a moment. Another rumble of thunder echoed from outside as the lightning cast a shadow over the window, but the only face staring back at Dean was his own. Cas there one minute, but gone the next. Dean slowly moved his gaze away from the window and down to the floor, wondering if he was starting to lose his damn mind.

“Dean?” The man was broken broken out of his thoughts when he heard your groggy voice from across the room. You had been woken up from the thunder, but you were half awake at the realization Dean was missing. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, one hand was propping you up as you used the other to rub the sleep from your eyes. “What’s going on?” You managed to get yourself somewhat alert as you blinked, your eyes adjusting to the darkness to see that Dean was standing next to the window. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dean didn’t respond for a moment as he stood next to the window, his back still to you. You pushed the covers off your body and pushed yourself to your feet and began to slowly walk over to him. “I don’t know.” Dean admitted. You could hear the caution in his voice as his eyes jumped back and forth across the motel parking lot. “I just saw something.”

“Uh, you saw what?” You asked him, hoping he might elaborate more on that answer. You expected him to respond with him saying that it was nothing. Being a hunter made you paranoid about every little thing that there was something lurking out in the shadows. But Dean didn’t think there was an enemy outside, but an old friend. You began walking faster to the window when you heard Dean say a name that made you suddenly alert. “Cas? Where?”

“Right there.” Dean said, pointing a finger to the window right next to the both of you. You furrowed your brow slightly when you saw there was nobody there.But you realized right away that it was just an illusion, a trick his mind was playing on him. You let out a quiet sigh when you realized this wasn’t the first time that it happened to him. “And—And earlier, on the road. I feel like I’m seeing him.”

“Dean…” You spoke his name softly as you stepped forward to him so you were standing next to him. You looked outside one more time, hoping that he was right and there might have been a chance you could spot an angel. But there was nobody there. “That’s not possible. I mean, you said it yourself. You made it out and he didn’t, right?”

“I tried so damn hard to get the both of us the hell out of there.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath. You let out a sigh from the way he was thinking, you knew he was beating himself up at what unfolded down there. It was something you wanted so hard to understand, but you couldn’t. You reached out to place it on his shoulder in attempt to be supportive, but he walked away, making you drop your arm back down to your side. “You know, I could have pulled him out. I just don’t understand why he didn’t try harder.”

“Dean,” You spoke the name’s name in a more serious tone when he finally turned around so he was now facing you again. You caught the glimpse of the guilt he was showing. You walked over to him and placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it softly to making him look at you. You gave him a sympathetic expression from the way he was beating himself up. “You did everything you could.”

He didn’t look at you right away, but when he finally did, you could see the feelings he had been bottling up since returning back. All the guilt, anger…so many things you wanted to know. But it’d be like pulling teeth to get him to tell you what happened. So you stuck with the situation right now, trying to make him feel better. “Yeah, but why do I feel like crap?”

“Survivor’s guilt?” You presumed what was causing him to make him feel like this. Dean nodded his head as quietly hummed something underneath his breath. You tilted your head to the side when he looked away from you again. “Look, I don’t know what happened…or what you’re feeling right now. But this is gonna keep messing with you. You got to come to terms with this.“

Dean knew that it was easier said than done. You squeezed his arm one more time before heading off to the bathroom to make a quick stop there to relieve yourself before going back to bed. As Dean got himself ready for a few hours of sleep, you shut the door behind you and headed for the toilet. But you only made it a few steps before you suddenly felt the feeling come back. You quickly grabbed ahold of the counter and leaned over the sink, presuming you were going to be sick again like you had been before going on this hunt.

You inhaled a deep breath as you got ready to hurl up the dinner you had hours ago, but the feeling only lasted a moment before disappearing quick as it came. You slowly pushed yourself up to a standing position as you looked at yourself in the mirror, wondering what was going on, and what you eat to have made you feel like this. But you didn’t put too much worry into it. You probably just got the stomach bug, it’d pass in a few days. You finished up in the bathroom and a minute later you were crawling into bed with Dean again, falling back into a dreamless sleep.

\+ + +

The next morning you woke up feeling perfectly fine, the nausea you had late into the night passed. You were now sitting at the table with your laptop open and an empty coffee cup at your side. You decided to go poking around the internet to see if there might have been any more people vanishing out of thin air. You were surprised to see something that fit exactly into the weird criteria you were looking for, just not in a place you were expecting. It seemed that demons were going international now to snatch people out of thin air.

“Hey, so it’s not just Americans who are vanishing. This guy, Luigi Ponzi disappeared walking between two subway cars in Rome.” You told the older Winchester who was in the bathroom right across from where you were sitting, the sink running. You turned your gaze away from the laptop screen to see what he was doing. And stealing a glance at his bottom half when he was bending over. You cleared your throat and turned your attention back to the article you were talking about. "And right above ground, there was a freak hailstorm.”

“So, we going to Rome?” Dean asked, liking the idea of taking a trip overseas to work to pretend and work on the case and sightsee at the same time. “Wouldn’t be too shabby.”

“If only.” You said, smiling to yourself at the thought of being able to enjoy the sights of a place like Rome. The history, the foreign place, the romantic time the both of you would have. And having no clue what people were saying. You pushed yourself up to your feet and headed to the small kitchen area to treat yourself with another cup of coffee. As you poured yourself a cup, you inhaled a deep breath, however instantly regretted it from the smell you took in. Your nose wrinkled slightly as you grabbed the cup and turned around. “God. What is that—”

You were about to ask Dean where that smell came from–it was hard to describe. And it hit you all at once. Sweat, dirt, blood…You picked it up all at once. You wondered if you were losing your mind like him from the strange things your body was doing to you, or there was a smell from outside that was creeping into the motel. But as you turned around and made a step to your laptop, you stopped dead in your tracks.

You were face to face with someone that almost appeared like a stranger to you. Part of you was ready to throw the hot coffee into the person’s face, until you looked past the grimy and sweaty appearance. The long hair you weren’t used to and the full beard. It was the familiar pair of blue eyes and trench coat you recognized. You felt your mouth fall open as the cup slipped from your grip, making a loud shattering noise that made Dean quickly look over his shoulder to see what was going on. But it seemed he was taken back himself. Because the person standing in front of you wasn’t a stranger, but someone he’d seen a few times. Alive and in the flesh.

You tightly furrowed your brow as you whispered a name you thought you’d never be able to say again to his face. “Cas?”

“Hello, Y/N.” You heard his voice, the same gravely tone you heard two years ago, in the hospital room where you wanted him to change your life. Both of you left wondering at the end of it all if you were going to see each other again. But here he was, and there was you, knowing exactly who he was and him back from purgatory.

\+ + +

All of this felt like it was too good to be true; seeing Castiel, the angel you thought you’d never be able to see again, was alive and in the flesh. After everything that went down before you disappeared for those two years was good enough of a reason for someone to hate his guts for long as you lived. But that wasn’t in your personality. All of you did things you regretted over the years, and from the sight of Cas, he paid Karma’s debt and then some.

Ever since you came back from your own mind frame you wished for the angel to come back in one piece from that terrible place. You wanted nothing more than to see him again and start over, let the bad blood between the both of you be washed away so the both of you could go back the way things were. Cas was your best friend, the one you could rely on him for just about anything. The one you knew and trusted like family. He didn’t deserve to go to Purgatory. Who had spent a year in Purgatory, probably thinking he was never going to get out. But here he was after all this time. Alive…and stinking to high heavens.

It was a smell that you didn’t think you’ve ever experienced before, it reeked of his year and a half long stay in purgatory. Sweat from spending all his time running for his life, that earthy dirt smell from what you imagined was from the endless miles of woods he traveled through. And the familiar smell of blood, along with the lingering aroma of death from the monsters he had to kill to save himself from meeting the same fate as them.

You sat on the edge of the bed across from Cas as he took the chair at the table while Sam occupied the other, a smile of disbelief never seeming to have faded from his face after you broke the news to him. He seemed to be just as in much shock at you were. The both of you were over the moon at the sight of an old friend. Dean, however, lingered behind as he leaned himself against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Unbelievable, man. I cannot believe it.” Sam said. He leaned in his chair as he rested his arms on the table, putting them down as he stared at the angel sitting across from him. You smiled as you looked over at Cas, the reality of this all seeming too good to be true. “You’re actually here.”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to reach out. But for whatever reason, I wasn’t at full power.” Cas said. “So I couldn’t connect with you.”

“That must have been why you kept seeing him.” You looked over at the older Winchester from what you heard the angel explain. You raised your brow slightly, giving him some hope that he wasn’t losing his mind of the guilt he admitted to you last night. “I mean, you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, I got to be honest. I’m thinking, how the hell did you make it out? I mean, I was there. I know that place. I know we had to scratch and claw and kill and bleed to find that portal and make it through it, and it almost finished me.” Dean said. He pushed himself up to a standing position and walked a few steps until he was next to the angel. It seemed that he couldn’t fully embrace the fact that Castiel was back here without a reason how he made it out when he fought for his life just to try and get to the finish line before even crossing it. “So, uh… so how exactly are you sitting here without us right now?”

Purgatory was a place where it felt like there was no possible way of escape. How could someone think about escaping when they’re constantly running for their lives? This afterlife was brutal, it was unforgiving. Once it sunk its claws into a soul there was no easy way of getting out. Hell made time feel like a month was a decade. But in Purgatory, had time no meaning. The paranoia made someone forget how long they had been in there. The stench of blood and dead bodies was enough to keep the constant fear of dying burning in their minds. It was easy to get in that hellhole, but getting out wasn’t another story.

“Dean, everything you just said is completely true. And that’s the strange part. I have no idea. I remember endlessly running from leviathan, and then I was on the side of the road in Illinois. And…that was it.” Cas admitted much information as he could to the older Winchester. Dean looked at the angel with a bit of a skeptical expression. He didn’t exactly believe in the story, but he didn’t think the angel would lie to him about getting out. You and Sam stared at both of the men with a bit of a worrisome expression, wondering they weren’t telling you. Cas averted his gaze to his appearance. It seemed the angel realized that he wasn’t exactly in the best shape of how he normally was. “Oh. I’m dirty.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean casually said. “Purgatory will do that to you.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything. But you smell…really bad.” You said. You meant the remark as a bit of teasing, sort of how a friend would do. When he looked in your direction to apologize for making you feel uncomfortable, you gave him a warm smile. You really didn’t care. You were happy that he was back in one piece. You slapped your hands on your thighs and pushed yourself up to your feet. "Take much time as you need, Cas.”

The angel smiled at your hospitality and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up and wash away the year’s worth of filth he’d gathered. You let out a sigh and looked over at the boys to see how they were handling the sight of a friend back from the dead, that’s how it felt to you, at least. Sam seemed curious as to what happened, but Dean seemed lost in his own world. Your smile faded when you noticed the same sort of expression was on the older Winchester’s face, the same one you saw last night and the few days prior back on the road. You quietly spoke his name, breaking him out of his concentration, or from your guess, a flashback of purgatory.

“You all right?” You asked the older Winchester in a concerned voice.

Dean didn’t answer your question in a forward direction. He walked over to the chair that Cas had occupied just a moment ago and sat himself down. You sat back down on the edge of the bed when he spoke up. “You do see something severely wrong here, right?” Dean asked the both of you. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering what exactly he meant by that. “Guys, I remember every second of leaving that place. I mean, I remember the heat, the stink, the pain, the fear. I have that whole ugly mess right here, and he says he had no idea how he got out? I— I’m just not buying it.”

You turned your head slightly to the bathroom door that was shut just enough to see a sliver of light coming out. The faucet sink turned on as the water began to run. You crossed your arms over your chest at the question you were about to ask. “So you think he’s lying?”

“I’m saying something else happened.” Dean said, sharing his concerns with the both of you. “I saw the shape he was in. I mean, there was no way he was fighting his ass out alone. No way.”

“All right. So, who…or what,” Sam corrected himself. “got him out?”

“Exactly.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

You let out a sigh from the situation that you wanted to look at with a happy outlook was now making you feel like you were about to discover something sinister hiding in the shadows. You and the boys had come back from the afterlife with strings attached, there was also something out there wanting you for a sinister reason. But you didn’t jump to finding out on the first day. You liked to enjoy the time with one another after being apart for so long. And you weren’t going to let the question lingering in the back of Dean’s mind from stopping you enjoying this reunion.

You turned your head to the bathroom when you saw Cas step out after spending a few minutes tiding himself up, looking exactly how you remembered. The tan colored trench coat, his white button up dress shirt and blue tie that was loosely undone. Not to mention the sight of him clean shaved and hairdo exactly how he wore it for the several years you’ve known him. He asked if his appearance was better. You broke out into a smile as you nodded your head. You pushed yourself back up to your feet, wanting to greet him the exact same way that you had been eager to do since seeing him.

“Come here, you idiot.” You whispered to the angel. You outstretched your arms and wrapped them tightly around his body, pulling him into a hug as you inhaled a deep breath. You shut your eyes as you stayed in that position for a moment and squeezed him harder, enjoying the feeling of having your friend back. In the present, and in the right mind frame. “God, I missed you, Cas.”

“I’ve missed you too, Y/N.” Cas admitted. Truth be told, the guilt he felt in the hospital room that night two years ago was still in him today. What he did was a shameful thing, but the both of you knew that Castiel was long gone. The angel he was today was someone you could proudly call a friend. He smiled at the sight of you back to your normal self. As he wrapped his arms around your body, the smile that he grew slowly vanished for a moment. His brow furrowed as he felt something…off in you. Something that he never felt before from you. You pulled away a second later, but your touch remained on him as you placed your hands on his shoulders. “You seem different from the last I saw you, Y/N.”

“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” You said with a small smile.

“Yes. You seem like you’re…” Castiel found himself trailing off as he stared at you for a moment, wondering what he could say without mentioning it in the open. You raised your brow slightly as you gave him a curious expression. The angel knew you long enough to know that you weren’t trying to keep a secret. You were genuinely interested to see what he meant. Cas smiled as he replied with something he heard people say about people in your condition, but you didn’t know. “Glowing.”

“Well, I was beaten in inch of my life the last time you saw me. Anything is an improvement from there.” You jokingly said. But you still found his observation a bit odd. You gave him a bit of a funny expression from what he meant by how you were glowing. “I mean…I don’t know. I don’t have anything evil hanging off of me anymore. I know who I am. You’re back. Everything’s good. Why would else I be ‘glowing’?”

Cas refrained himself from saying so. He merely smiled when you did so again as you dropped your hands back down to your side. The angel watched as you turned around and headed to the kitchen to fetch a drink. He knew you and the Winchester didn’t drink much variety besides beer and coffee. He watched with hesitance as you opened up the fridge door to fetch something from there, but relief washed over him when he saw that it was a bottle of water.

It wasn’t that he was afraid about the alcohol consumption for your liver, but for the heartbeat he heard in your body. It was strong, and going too fast at a rate to be yours. Cas didn’t know what it was at first, he needed you close to him to figure it out more. If he was stronger he could have found out in mere seconds. It was your lingering touch on the shoulder that made him realize something—there was someone else living inside of your body. Someone who had been there for the past six weeks, unnoticed by you. You sat back down on the bed and took a sip of your drink, having no clue the symptoms you’ve been feeling over the past few weeks weren’t random. It was because of something else. Something you would never think of to presume.

\+ + +

You were overjoyed at the sight of Cas being back, and while you knew you needed to find out who brought him back from purgatory, you weren’t exactly going to stretch out your neck to bite the hand that plucked the angel back on the earth. You and Sam sat at the table discussing the situation at hand with people that were disappearing out of the blue and leaving strange phenomenons. You made a list of the names and the strange occurrences that unfolded over the past few weeks. While you had a feeling you knew who was to blame for, you still needed to find out why these people were being targeted by those black eyed monsters. 

You stared down at the notepad with your pen lightly wracking against the paper as your elbow was on the table cradling your head. You’d gotten a headache out of the blue, not like the ones you used to get that felt like a migraine, but strong enough to make you feel a bit irritated. You still felt a little nauseous since this morning, but it subsided a good amount when you consumed what you found in the fridge from the trip to the store to pick up a few things. While you and Sam went over the research again to see you could find anything, Dean was out on a quick run getting some more beer and painkillers like you asked. With your luck you had used up the last few you had from another headache that came last week. 

Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed flicking through the channels, not really watching anything, just enjoying the things he didn’t realize he enjoyed in his past life. Television was such a fascinating concept to the angel. There was hundreds of channels at one’s disposal—dramas, action, soap operas, reality TV where people compete against one another for glamorous prizes. Along with infomercials selling a naive audience overpriced products they didn’t need. Not to mention the channels of scantily clad women and their male partners who liked to pretend and smack rears. He knew that was something he wasn’t allowed to watch with other men in the room. It created an awkward tension. 

You turned your gaze up from the table when you heard the motel door open a few minutes later, revealing Dean. A smile grew when you saw him rattling a bottle of pills in one hand and a six pack in the other. You caught the box and broke into it as he headed over to the counter to put down the beer, taking one for himself and offering another to his brother. You popped two tiny pills into your mouth and washed it down with a sip of water.

“What’s the latest?” Dean asked the both of you as he headed over to the table, looking over his brother’s shoulder and at the laptop screen to see what the man had come up with.

“The latest is nothing. It’s like it all stopped.” Sam said. You grabbed the pen from the table and began to start tapping it again out of slight frustration. “No freak disappearances linked to any freak natural events.”

“So how many have we got, seven?” Dean wondered.

“Yeah, uh,” You looked down at the notebook with the names you had scribbled down, the tip of the pen trailing down with each one you spoke out loud. “Luigi, Justin, Aaron, Maria—”

“Maria, Dennis, Krista, Sven.” Cas cut you off, finishing up the four other names you were about to say. You looked over your shoulder in slight confusion at how the angel knew any of those names after being gone for so long. His attention since getting himself cleaned up was with the TV. He didn’t read any of the research you and Sam had been collecting, let alone the names of the people who had disappeared. The angel sat on the chair with the remote to the TV in his hand, a smile on his lips as he watched what appeared to be something about outer space. “I missed Television.”

“Wait, Cas.” You stopped the angel from going on anymore about how much he enjoyed staring at the screen. You turned around in your seat and draped an arm over to the top, your brow furrowing slightly. “How did you know those are the names?”

“Well, they’re prophets.” Cas answered you. You brow furrowed even more as you repeated the last word he mentioned. “Yeah, angels instinctively know the names of every prophet—past, present and future.”

“So this list is the names of every one of ‘em that exists?” Dean asked the angel.

“Yes, until the next generation is born. Plus Kevin Tran, of course.” Cas explained. “The other seven are future prophets, since only one can exist at a time.”

“How is Kevin a prophet if Chuck is a prophet?” Sam posed an important question.

You had to think about it for a moment before you remembered the prophet from years back, Chuck Shurley. Alcoholic prophet who had the ability to see the future, only he used his ability to sell your life in paperback form to make some cash. “I’m not sure what happened to Chuck, but, he must be dead.” The angel presumed.

“So, the next one comes off the bench if Kevin goes down?” Dean asked, trying to make sense of Heaven’s rules and people dedicated to whatever needed to be done.

“Exactly.” Cas said. “And they have no idea who they are, of course.”

If these demons were taking prophets out of the blue, you had a good feeling you knew exactly why their bastard king wanted them for. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as you muttered the name of the demon who was a thorn in your side lately, “Crowley.”

“Insurance.” Dean said. Crowley had the demon tablet, but no Kevin Tran to read it for him. He thought if he nabbed a prophet or two they might be able to help him out if they wanted to keep their lives. “Boy, he’s getting desperate.”

“Explains all the weird phenomena. Lower-level demons nabbing heavy-duty cargo.” Sam said, making sense of the occurrences that was unfolding over the past few weeks. “The vessel of God’s word—boom.”

Cas turned off the TV and pushed himself back up to his feet to place the remote on top of the square box. He walked forward to you and the boys to be more inclusive of the conversation. "I get the feeling something’s going on.” Cas said. You found yourself slowly breaking out into a small smile. “What’s funny, Y/N? Missing prophets is a serious matter.”

“Thank you for your lovely deduction, Sherlock.” You said. “I’m glad you’re back with us, Cas. I really did miss that sharp wit of yours.”

The conversation between you and the angel was momentarily paused when you heard Sam’s phone start ringing. You looked over at him when he answered it a few rings later. “Hello?” The younger Winchester answered the phone, not sure who it might be. You watched as his face jumped into about a handful of different expression from the conversation he was having with someone you would have never expected to try and make contact with you. “Mrs. Tran?! Well, where the hell have you…” Sam’s face fell as he jumped up to his feet, you gave him a worried expression from what was going on. “Crowley’s got Kevin.”

\+ + +

You, the boys and Cas wasted no time in finding a safe enough of a location to meet Mrs. Tran after she admitted to you that her son was gone, and in the hands of the demon you had tried so hard to keep Kevin from. You were in the backseat with Cas and sitting behind Sam. You rested your arm on the door as you occupied your nervousness by softly biting your knuckle as you stared out into the night, wondering if you might be able to spot the headlights of a car before hearing it. There was nothing around you but miles of woods, a perfect spot to meet Mrs. Tran. You pulled out your phone and checked the time to see that it was two minutes from the last time you looked at the clock on the screen.

“Where the hell is she?” Dean muttered underneath his breath in aggravation.

“Look, mile marker ninety-six was kind of the halfway point.” Sam said.

Dean fell silent for a moment as he stared off into the distance, finding himself preoccupied with a personal flashback that made a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach form. You moved your gaze away from the road and straight ahead when the car began silent, a little too silent for your own comfort. “Cas,” Dean suddenly spoke up after a few minutes of silence. “Can I talk to you outside?”

You looked over at the angel sitting next to you when Dean wasted no time in getting himself out. Cas seemed confused as to what it was about. You shrugged your shoulders, the angel slipped himself out of the car to join the older Winchester. You and Sam remained as you were to give the two men some privacy. You adjusted yourself in your seat and let out a sigh, making yourself comfortable. A second or so passed before that feeling came and went, being replaced by something that you thought would have passed by now. You placed a hand on your stomach when you felt the uneasy feeling beginning to creep into your stomach again. For a second you waited and anticipated the moment you were going to have to open the car door.

“You okay, Y/N?” Sam’s question broke you out of your personal thoughts, making you look straight ahead to see that he was staring at you with a concerned look. You slipped your hand off your stomach and placed it back down on the leather seat. You nodded your head to answer his question. “You haven’t been feeling good lately. Do you think it’s a good idea you tagged along?”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen, Sasquatch? I puke on Crowley’s shoes?” You asked the younger Winchester in a sarcastic tone of voice. While it had brought a smile across Sam’s lips, his concern still lingered in his expression. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes. “Look, if it keeps up I’ll get it checked out. It’s probably a stomach bug or something.”

The conversation between the both of you disappeared quickly as it started when you saw a pair of headlights come flashing in your direction, along with the sound of a car’s engine following seconds later. You and Sam jumped out of the car when you saw a silver automobile pull forward up to the Impala. You saw the person in the driver’s seat was a familiar woman you hadn’t seen in weeks. Mrs. Tran exited out of the driver’s side door and approached the four of you. You noticed that she was nervous for the outcome of this situation that could have been entirely unavoidable if the both of them stuck with you and the Winchesters.

“You can do this, can’t you?” Mrs. Tran asked all of you. “You can get him back?”

“How did Crowley find you?” Dean answered the woman’s question with one of his own.

“Oh, I hired a witch, and she ratted us out.” She explained in possibly the most nonchalant way.

“A witch?!” You repeated the woman, trying to make sense of what she just said. You gave her a look of disbelief at her move as you crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly appearing like a parent in front of a child who had pulled a stupid stunt. “Why’d you hire a witch?”

“To make demon bombs, of course!” Mrs. Tran said. You let out a sigh of annoyance as you rubbed your eyes with your hand, wondering how her and her son could be so smart, and yet so dumb at the same time. She handed over a notebook to Sam for him to read over. “These are Kevin’s notes.”

“You have any idea where Crowley took him?” You asked.

“No. But, uh…” Mrs. Tran might not be able to give you a location of where her son was. But the woman didn’t come without leverage against the king. She popped open the trunk of her car to reveal a devil’s trap painted on the inside hood and a demon she captured. “This guy might.”

“Oh.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath. You raised your brow slightly at how Mrs. Tran had managed to somehow capture a demon and throw him into her trunk without even getting a scratch on her. Sometimes you doubted that woman, but it seemed she knew how to take care of herself. He approached the trunk and pulled out a knife that killed the demon’s kind. There was no way the demon was getting out of here alive, and you had a feeling with a bit of persuasion he’d be singing like a canary in mere minutes. “Let’s talk.

\+ + +

The demon currently occupying the trunk of Mrs. Tran’s car gave up the location to his boss’ hideout in mere seconds after you promised his death would be quick and painless. You sat in the backseat with Dean and Cas in front, Sam following behind as he drove Mrs. Tran’s car to keep up with his older brother’s erratic driving speeds. You made it to what appeared to be an abandoned factory Crowley loved to use to keep his hostages. You frowned slightly at the memories coming back to you during the time you spent in a place like this. You hoped Kevin and the other prophets weren’t being given the treatment like you had to endure. 

Kevin was being held in the middle of Atlantic, Iowa with probably a dozen demons crawling around the place waiting for a few pesky hunters to try and save the day while their king had a nice chat with his guests. Little did they realize one of their own turned on them and gave up their exact location that took you all night to get to. The three of you got and got out of the Impala as Sam worked on keeping Mrs. Tran safe. His idea of that was handcuffing her to the steering wheel. She wasn’t exactly pleased, but it was better than having to worry about her getting in trouble. 

You opened up the trunk to reveal the demon who had been stuck there during the entire car ride from the spot where Mrs. Tran has been hiding out and now to where Crowley was inside with a bunch of innocent prophets who had no idea what they were. You asked the demon if this was the location he told you about, and when he said yes, you smiled at him. You looked up at Dean who was holding Ruby’s special knife that had come in handy so many times. He shoved the blade straight into the demon’s chest, killing him instantly. You slammed the trunk as Sam stepped out of the car once he got Mrs. Tran settled and out of the way. 

The four of you began your journey into the compound into the back that seemed deserted without any soulless monster possessing any meat suit they found. You followed behind the boys as you walked down a flight of steps that lead you deeper into the place. You were cautious with your footing, making sure to be quiet as you kept an eye out for your black eyed friends. All of you managed to get down to the bottom of the staircase and make it a few steps before you saw Dean’s arm waving at the three of you, a warning that someone was coming. 

You managed to step out of sight just as the demon’s footsteps grew louder to inspect this side of the factory for any trespassers like yourselves. You held your breath as you leaned against the concrete wall, reaching for the flask of holy water you had hidden in your back pocket for safety. Dean was closest to the demon, and with the knife, he crept up behind the unsuspecting creature and stabbed him straight in the back. When you heard his body fall to the ground, you stepped out and joined the three men to see what your next plan of action was. 

“All right. Dean and I will go this way.” Sam said. He had the demon bomb all of you made from the spell in Kevin’s notebook. While it had worked for the prophet, all of you had yet to see how well it worked for yourselves. “Y/N, you and Cas take the other way.” 

Dean gave you the bloody demon killing knife for safety, him and his brother were safe with the bomb they had to take down many of Crowley’s goons as they could. You wished them good luck and to be safe before watching as they headed off. You gripped the wooden handle of the knife and turned around to face the angel to get started on your own search. But it seemed you were taking a step backwards than forward when you found Cas was standing right in front of you, blocking your path. You presumed it was Cas being Cas, the awkward angel that he was, he probably accidentally got in your way. You moved your foot to the side and tried to pass him, but he followed your move, blocking your way again.

You gave him a confused expression from what he was doing, showing him that you weren’t in the mood for this. Along with the fact that neither of you had the time, you had seven future prophets and one current one you needed to find before something terrible happened to them. It seemed the angel was just trying to be cautious for your well-being, considering what he knew.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Cas asked you. The angel couldn’t tell if you knew what was going on with your body at this very moment. He took the presumption that if you did know it had to have been recent. You were keeping it a secret from everyone, even the father of the baby growing inside of you. But Cas could only presume you had better judgement than putting yourself in danger like this. “Considering the condition you’re in?”

“It’s a stomach virus or something, Cas. Relax. It’s not like I’m dying or anything.” You brushed off the angel’s worry about how you were feeling over the past few days. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as Cas opened his mouth to tell you the truth about the reason why you were feeling sick. But you didn’t have time for this. “Come on. We’ve got a bunch of prophets to save and a bitch king to carve up.”

The angel understood there was more pressing matters that were important right now, like finding Kevin Tran and the other prophets before something bad could happen to them. Cas was concerned for their well-being, but he was more anxious for the news he needed to tell you that was bound to change everything. There was more than one life on the line if you happened to get yourself in danger. You were an excellent hunter, and taking down a few demons weren’t a problem for someone like you. But the angel still wanted to proceed with caution. After all, he almost got you killed before. He’d do anything to make sure that never happened again.

The both of you began making your way around the property to see if you could find Kevin on your own. Cas insisted on taking the lead, you followed behind him with the demon knife in loose in your grip. You made sure your footsteps were quiet as possible as you kept a close eye out for any possible goons to try and stop you. You and Cas made it deeper into the building with almost no sort of problem, and while you were enjoying not having any demons to try and bash your brains in, you knew it was a matter of time until you faced one of them. You suddenly heard the sound of footsteps, and from the rhythmic pattern, you knew they didn’t belong to the boys or Cas.

You stopped in your tracks, the grip around the knife tightening as you slowly looked over your shoulder. You smirked at the demon standing a few feet from where you were. You flicked your wrist, turning the knife into a better position to attack him with as you swung your arm up in the air, attempting to stab him before he could do anything stupid. But it seemed the demon was faster. You suddenly felt yourself being thrown across the way you came in, and landing directly into a bunch of chains. But before you could hit the wall, you felt some other force stop you. You managed to get the idea of grabbing a hold of the chains and steady yourself.

While you hung in the air trying to figure out a way to get yourself down, the demon attempted to take down Cas down before he could. The angel might not have been up to his full strength, he was still able to withstand whatever the demon was trying to do him. Cas placed his hand over the demon’s face and taking him down with what grace he had, smiting him as a burst of light illuminated from the demon’s eyes and mouth. What would have been a simple task to the angel if he was back to normal turned out to be more draining than he thought. Cas felt himself suddenly growing weaker as he stumbled to the concrete wall. The angel managed to catch himself before he could lose his balance and fall.

You managed to get yourself untangled from the chains and jumped down to the floor, landing on both of your feet without any sort of psychical damage it seemed. But you couldn’t say the same for Cas. You ran over to the angel when you noticed that he was looking in rough shape after what he did. You placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder as you gave him a concerned look as he caught his breath. This wasn’t like him. Cas could go through killing a dozen demons and then some without even breaking a sweat. The angel looked like he strained himself.

“What the hell’s going on?’ You asked him. “You’re not all the way back to yourself, are you?”

“I’ll be fine.” Cas tried to reassure you. You saw straight through his lie as you tilted your head to the side slightly, wondering if it was you who should have been asking him if he needed to stay back. You could find the boys and take care of this, but the angel seemed stubborn as you from doing this. “We’re very near Kevin. We should keep going.”

Cas brushed off your arm from his shoulder, making it drop back to your side as he stood up straighter, trying to act like he was fine. You rolled your eyes when he started to walk forward, you followed behind a moment later with the demon knife in your grip. Cas might have been weaker than he wanted, but he wasn’t going to let Crowley win this one. There was no way the demon was going to make Kevin read anything off the tablet that might help him in the slightest. A weak angel and a pregnant hunter was Kevin’s only hope, but Cas had faith the both of you could win this one.

You pulled out a few tools from your back pocket when Cas informed you that the heavy metal door in front of you was where Crowley and Kevin were. You tried to pick the lock in attempt to get in there, but much as you tried to somehow get in there, the damn lock wouldn’t budge. You let out a frustrated sigh from the wall you had hit, but you weren’t going to let that stop you. You tried one more time to see if you wiggled it slightly and pushed harder the door might unlock. But there was no such luck for you.

“Damn it.” You hissed underneath your breath. “It’s not working.”

“Y/N, I’m going in.” The angel informed you of his plan.

“Are you stupid? You’re not strong enough.” You said, pointing out a small factor you didn’t really want to at the moment. But you knew Cas was a lot like you and the Winchesters. All of you could be bleeding and bruised, but you would fight until the very end. “Fine. But you’re not doing it—”

One advantage of having a weak angel was that you managed to hitch a ride before Cas knew what you were doing and vanished from sight like he normally did. You outstretched your arm and grabbed a fistful of Cas’ trench coat, hitching a ride on him as the both of you transported into the next room. The sound of rustling wings signaled your presence, and it seemed the two people you were looking for were surprised to see you as well. Your attention went straight to the king of hell himself, Crowley. You narrowed your eyes on the demon as you let go of the hold on Cas.

You smiled and waved at the demon with the hand holding the knife that could kill him. “Hiya, Crowley. Miss us?”

"Kitten. What a pleasure to be graced with your presence again. And speaking of grace…I see you brought a friend along with you. If that what we’re calling this now?” Crowley wondered, waving a finger between you and the angel standing next to you. “Castiel. Fresh from Purgatory. I wish you two called first. I would’ve tidied up the place if I knew the whole Scooby gang was back together again.”

“Crowley.” Cas muttered the demon’s name underneath his breath.

“Which Castiel is it this time? I’m never sure. Madman or megalomaniac?” Crowley found it easy to get under his old partner’s skin. A little too easy. You scoffed at the remark as you rolled your eyes, catching the demon’s attention. While Crowley was ready to make a remark about the right ways you should be acting, he found himself falling silent when he took a moment to examine you. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly on you, as if he was seeing something in you that you didn’t notice. The end of his lips stretched into the tiniest smirk as he asked you an odd question. “You seem drastically different from the last time I saw you, Kitten. But I can’t quite put my finger on it. New hairdo?”

"You know I hate that name, Crowley.” You reminded the demon of the stupid nickname he gave you. “I almost didn’t recognize you, either. Considering last time you were possessing a soccer mom and Dean tried to slit your throat. But since you’re back in your original packaging, I’d love to finish where he left off.”

“Maybe next time. But I do agree. I don’t think ‘Kitten’ works anymore considering the condition you’re in now.” Crowley agreed. The angel narrowed his eyes on the demon when he realized Crowley knew without even saying a word. He expected the king of hell to spill the truth right here, but he was too caught up hearing himself talk to do so. “I think the proper term is Queen.“

Your face scrunched up when you heard a term you never expected to come out of Crowley’s mouth. The only time it did was when he was discussing matters with someone that might have looked like you, but the soul inside the body was rotten and dark as her eyes. "What are you talking about? I think my demon side turned down that offer after I killed her. And if you didn’t know, the boys burned her body. But thanks for the thought. Or whatever.”

“That’s not what…” Crowley was about to tell you, but the demon trailed off for another second. He knew exactly what to look for when someone lied. You would have gotten defensive and threatened him. But there was no denying the sheer ignorance on your face. His smile seemed to grow even wider. "You don’t know, do you?”

“Kevin is coming with us.” Castiel spoke up before the demon could spill the truth. He began walking over to the prophet who appeared to be in worse shape than you thought. Crowley stepped forward before either you or the angel could attempt to come to his rescue.

“I think not.” Crowley said. “The prophet’s playing on my team now.”

You knew exactly how that one worked out from past experience, and it didn’t end well for the one doing all the heavy lifting. You tightened your grip around the handle of the knife as you stepped forward to Cas, but kept your distance from Crowley. You were more worried about making sure Kevin got out of here in one piece. Much as you wanted to think the blood on Kevin’s face and shirt wasn’t his own, you were proven wrong when you stepped backwards slightly to approach the prophet.

You suddenly felt yourself slightly slipping when you stepped into something sticky, making you slightly lose your balance before you managed to catch yourself. You looked down at the ground to see there was a drying pool of blood, and something odd lying on the floor just a few inches from where Kevin sat. Much as you wanted to choose to ignore the little object, something inside of you needed to know. It looked important. You pulled on the sleeve of your jacket and picked up the small object with the fabric being the thin layer from your own skin. When you crouched down to pick it up, you narrowed your eyes slowly as to what it could be…but when you saw the bone, you suddenly dropped it back down to the ground.

“I took a page out of your handbook. Turns out cutting off fingers is quite useful into getting people to do what you want.” Crowley said. You swallowed slightly as you tried your hardest to try and compose yourself. But you could feel it creeping back into you. The feeling you had back at the cabin. Then yesterday morning. The churning in your stomach, the suddenly feeling like the room was spinning. How your skin was breaking into a sweat as you tried to hide it. But you couldn’t. “Don’t tell me you got a weak stomach for this kind of stuff, Y/N. Unless…”

You were so close to making what you had said to Sam in the Impala about puking on Crowley’s shoes a reality. But you managed to keep the empty contents of your stomach where it was. You somehow managed to compose yourself, acting like everything was fine. You continued to make your way over to Kevin, nodding your head for him to step back as Cas slipped out the angel blade from his jacket. “Unless the sight of your face repulsive me. Which it does, by the way.”

Crowley wasn’t the only one who had a blade that could not only kill angels, but demons as well. You should have known he’d get his hands on one of them eventually. “So this is how it’s going to be?” Cas asked the demon.

“It’s all very West Side Story, but let’s be logical. You look like hell, and I should know. You’re not up for this.” Crowley said. The demon nodded his head over at you who was now standing next to Kevin. You furrowed your brow slightly when he kept going on about something you had no clue what he was talking about. "Not to mention, Kitten is having a—”

Before Crowley could speak the words, the angel stopped him from doing so by trying one last ditch effort to get the three of you out of here without any harm being done to you or Kevin. The demon watched as Cas’ eyes began to change color, they were almost glowing in a shade of bright blue. The demon scoffed at what Cas was doing. He made a remark that the angel might be able to get it up, but the question remained if Cas could keep it up. The angel was about to prove him right.

You’ve only seen Cas and his wings once before, and that was when you first met him when you only thought of him as a demon. But he proved himself before that he was a powerful angel, and he was about to make that point again with Crowley. You could see the fear in the demon’s eyes when he saw the sight, and much as he tried to think Cas was bluffing, the angel was ready to use all the strength he had to smite the demon once and for all.

As Cas reached out a hand, Crowley knew exactly what the angel was reaching for. He reached for the stone tablet on the table, but before he could get a good grip on it, Cas suddenly threw his fist down to the glass top, breaking it into tiny pieces. Everything happened so fast after that. You shielded yourself from the shards of glass and the suddenly blinding white light that came from what Cas had done. As the scene began to calm down, you realized that Crowley was gone—along with half the demon tablet.

\+ + +

Mrs. Tran was overjoyed at the sight of seeing her son, but yet quickly thrown into panic when she saw that he was injured. You tried to reassure her that the damage could have been worse, but you’d be lying if you weren’t a bit disturbed at what happened here today. While Mrs. Tran wiped the blood away from her son’s face that was a mix of his own and someone else’s, you told them how things were going to be from now on. There was no more running around, no more attempts at keeping themselves under the radar. Because if this happened again, Kevin wouldn’t be losing his finger. And Mrs. Tran would surely end up dead.

“Cops are on their way. They’re gonna pick up the prophets.” You said, telling the family some good news out of this situation. “They’ll all be heading home.”

“What about us?” Mrs. Tran asked.

"I called a friend of ours, Garth. He does what we do. Well…in his own way. He’ll keep an eye on you guys. No more going off on your own.” You said. You weren’t exactly expecting a thank you from the family, but you found the eye roll Mrs. Tran gave you a bit rude. You crossed your arms over your chest when she went back to wiping her son’s face. “You get that it was hiring that witch that got you into all of this, right? Crowley’s a son of a bitch. But he’s one you don’t want to mess with. And I know. How are you holding up, Kev?”

“You kidding? I want to seal those bastards up forever.” Kevin stated in an angered tone of voice. You found yourself swallowing slightly when he lifted up the arm that was bandaged up with a bloody spot in the gauze from where he was missing an appendage, the one that you had accidentally dropped on the ground. “Took my finger.”

“Been there, had that done to me. Ring finger. It’s not fun. But you’ll survive. Cas think he might be able to…” You tried your hardest to finish your sentence, but you couldn’t. You were suddenly stricken silent when you felt the symptoms you experienced earlier. All though you were lucky for the feeling to pass, this time it was growing worse.

You suddenly felt yourself growing into the same state as you did back in the cabin a few days ago. You felt your skin break out into a thin layer of sweat as your stomach began to churn in a way that was making the entire world around you spin. You managed to get a few feet away from the Tran family and an approaching Kevin when you bent over and vomited whatever was inside your stomach. You hadn’t eaten much over the past day, and throwing up like this wasn’t good. You coughed a few times, trying to get the last of the bile out of your mouth.

You stood hunched over for a moment as the world beneath your feet began to spin all around you. You didn’t move out of fear you might land face first into the pile of your own vomit. After a minute, you managed to compose yourself, and with the help of Sam who seemed to have come out of nowhere, you felt his hand on your back. You stood back up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Sam stared at you with a concerned expression from what was going on. You smiled slightly as you swallowed down the bitter taste lingering in your mouth. When you felt your stomach tighten, you knew this time it wasn’t out of sickness—but pure fear.

\+ + +

What was the proper term for a female cat who was raising kittens or a soon-to-be-mother? A queen.

You didn’t know why you had to look up the answer. But it had been bothering you since Illinois. Ever since you had gotten sick for the third day in a row. While it had been a few days since then and every prophet including Kevin were safe, the nausea hadn’t gone away. It’d been almost a week and you had gotten sick practically every single day like clockwork. You sat in the empty motel room with your laptop open of the page you looked up the term Crowley had called you, the other was a website of symptoms that made you feel sick all over again. Partly out of fear, a little bit out of a worry. And a pinch that all of this was too good to be true.

You were trying everything to get yourself to wake up from this dream, but when you pinched yourself, all you got was an aching arm. You inhaled a deep breath as you slowly shut your laptop and pushed it across the bed until it was a safe distance from you. Dean was off with Sam this morning for some breakfast. You wanted to stick back after getting sick again. You remembered before Dean left that he was starting to get concerned himself that all of this throwing up couldn’t be good. He suggested you figure out what was going on. And…you did.

You bit your bottom lip when he said that he’d swing by the store to get something you might be able to keep down. Because the both of you thought this was just some nasty stomach bug, perhaps you ate something bad that gave you food poisoning. But it wasn’t a sickness. There was no way in hell it was.

You shook the memory of Crowley out of your head. The thought of him made your skin crawl in general. And much as the both of you wanted to see one another dead, it seemed you just gave him another…thing to go after.

You placed a hand on your stomach, your still normal feeling body part that hadn’t changed since the last time you remembered. Maybe you gained a pound or two after falling back into the routine of eating diner food and whatever sort of junk you could get your hands on. But you didn’t have anything out of the ordinary. You thought back and forth of what you should do in this moment. Maybe you were just getting ahead of yourself. There was no way possible this was happening. Much as a part of you, a very small part of you wished this was true. No. Even that was a lie. A huge part of you was screaming on the inside. For joy, for fear that all of this was just a false alarm.

If you wanted a possible answer right away you needed to get one of those overpriced tests from the store. You had just enough time to get one and do it while Dean was gone with his brother. Right as you got up from the bed and grab your shoes to put them on, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks at the thought of your boyfriend. There was no way in hell you could tell him right now. How was he going to handle it? How was Sam going to react if…You suddenly stopped yourself from having an anxiety attack when you reminded yourself. If—If all of this was really happening. You knew you needed to know before panicking and jumping for joy. But how?

“Y/N?” The sound of a voice coming from behind you caught you off guard, more than you had expected it to. You felt yourself jump an inch or two off the ground, the anxiety in your stomach suddenly tightened at the sound of a gravely male voice. But as you turned around to see who it was, you felt an odd sense of relief when you saw that it was just Cas. “Are you all right?”

“'Am I all right’?” You found yourself repeating the question as you raised your brow. For a split second you were ready to spill your guts, suddenly remembering the observation he said to you the first day of being reunited. But you refrained yourself from jumping the gun just yet. You found yourself asking him an odd question. “We’re friends, right, Cas?”

“In the traditional form of the sense where we share a mutual trust and support between one another? Then, yes. I believe we would be considered friends.” The angel had a way with words that always seemed like he was trying too hard and yet innocent sounding at the same time. You smiled slightly as you looked down at the ground, but ever so slowly, your eyes slowly moved to your stomach. Cas knew it didn’t take much thought to understand what caused a look of fear to cross your face. But he was hesitant to speak the words himself. “You seem like something’s bothering you.”

“I…I think…” You opened your mouth and attempted to tell the angel what was buzzing in your mind for the past half an hour. But all that came out was a few words before you found yourself trailing off. The word was on the tip of your tongue, but it wouldn’t come out. Because if you said it, it meant that it could be true. You suddenly felt your heartbeat pound roughly against your ribcage as your stomach began to do back flips. And before your knees could give out on you, you sat on the edge of the bed. You stared at a certain spot in the room as your face scrunched up slightly from what you finally admitted to. “I think I’m pregnant.”

The two words finally came out of your mouth, and then, the reality hit you like a ton of bricks. It had to be true. The morning sickness, constantly feeling tired, how your boobs always seemed to hurt. Not to mention the constant hunger that came out of nowhere and the odd cravings. And the biggest red flag of all you thought was due to stress, your period had been late for the past few weeks now. You let out a shaky breath as you rested your elbow on your thigh and cradled your head. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be…the word suddenly felt like swear word in your mouth you were afraid to say.

Cas continued to stand in the same spot from where he arrived in just a minute ago. He had contemplated since making sure the Tran family were safe that he wanted to talk to you alone. He thought this would be the perfect time to discuss with the brothers away. Most people at your age would consider this a joyous moment in their lives. He knew the Thompsons, the married couple you had lived for those two years, had desired children. They tried everything to start a family. But the angel knew from how far along you were that James wasn’t the father.

Cas wasn’t sure how to respond to what you admitted to. Someone like you, a hunter whose life was constantly in danger with no real home to raise a child, wasn’t an ideal candidate to be in your condition. But you didn’t seem terrified at the thought of carrying. And yet you didn’t seem so thrilled. The angel let out a quiet sigh and decided to come clean. “I know.”

Your eyes jumped up from the ground and to the angel standing across from you. Somehow you were back on your feet and enraged with anger from what you heard him admit. You didn’t know why you were lashing out like this. You read that pregnant women have mood swings. And you sure were having a lot of them. “You knew? You…” And just like that, you found yourself going through another direction of emotion. Before you could lash out at him. You were stopping dead in your tracks and staring at the angel with a surprised expression. “You’re saying that—”

“You’re with child, Y/N.” Cas said. He said those four words that would change your life forever.

Your reaction to hearing the news you had been constantly thinking about and researching all sorts of symptoms was strange. You felt your lips slowly stretch into an wobbly sort of smile as you felt your heartbeat skyrocket again. “Oh God.” You mumbled to yourself. And then the reality of the situation came crumbling down on you if what this meant. There was a baby inside of you. A bit of you and Dean was growing inside of your mouth. You felt your smile slowly disappear as it was replaced with a look of horror. “Oh God. What am I gonna do?”

“I believe in these situations you have a few options you might want to consider.” The angel was trying his hardest to be helpful here. “You can carrying the baby until full term and raise him or her. You can choose to put the baby up for adoption. But in cases like this the situation isn’t very promising considering how tricky it is for parents who want to care for an unwanted orphan is tricky. And then there’s a—"

“No, no, no. No!” You nearly screamed at the angel from what you knew he was going to say, that word that made your stomach suddenly feel queasy all over again. You weren’t going with the last two options. No way in hell would you ever think of doing that. You inhaled a deep breath as you tried to compose yourself from the reality you were trying to wrap your head around. “Okay. So. I’m…pregnant.”

“Six weeks and two days to be exact.” Cas said, giving you a rough estimate of how far along you were. You gave him a slightly shocked expression from the number that he pulled out of thin air. “How are you feeling at the moment, Y/N?”

You couldn’t help yourself but scoff from his question, “How the hell do you think I’m feeling?”

“Many different emotions, I presume. Pregnancy can alter the chemicals in a woman’s body when she’s expecting. And not to mention, pregnancy in your situation can be…” Castiel sometimes didn’t know exactly the right thing to say was. He found himself suddenly falling silent when he saw you inhaling a series of short breaths before you buried your face in your hands, as if you were trying to hide the tears that were about to fall. “But it can also be a very exciting time. Many expecting parents find this as a miracle. Pregnancy is a fascinating process. You’ve created a new life, Y/N. This should be celebrated.”

“This can’t be happening.” You admitted to the angel, your voice muffled as you spoke between a few hiccups as you suddenly felt yourself overwhelmed. You felt the bed dip below when Cas sat next to you. “I can’t be a mother. It’s an impossible.”

“Not entirely. All though the chances of a woman getting pregnant in her thirties are lower than in her twenties, it is possible.” Cas was trying his hardest to make you feel better. But he felt he was only making the problem worse. “Your pregnancy will still be a healthy one.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You said. You lifted your head back up as you wiped away the tears that had fallen while you were coming to terms with the reality of the situation. You looked over at the angel and admitted to him what was really bothering you about all of this. “Truth be told, I’m excited. This is something I’ve always wanted.”

“Then what seems to be the problem?” Cas asked you.

“Uh…everything? I’m a hunter, Cas. One who has a bad reputation in the supernatural world. I live in the backseat of the Impala and motel rooms. My diet includes fast food and greasy meals at diners. Not to mention, I’m constantly having my life on the line.“ You painted a picture for the angel of what was causing you to feel so scared about what was going on. "Do you honestly think I’m cut out to be a mother? And don’t get me started on what Dean’s gonna say…”

“I believe he’ll be scared at the idea of fatherhood. Considering John wasn’t one that raised him and Sam properly. The emotional abuse surely has scarred him.” Cas said, giving a little too much detail that made you look at him with a terrified expression. “But I know Dean. I know that family is very important to him. And he would make an excellent father. And you will make a wonderful mother. If anything from dealing with the Winchester for all these years it shows that you have patience and compassion. Along with sacrificing everything to protect the people you love.”

You fell silent for a moment as you listened to what the angel had to say. You remembered not that long ago you and Dean were discussing the topic about having children. The look on his face when he thought you were carrying. It wasn’t true. But what was he going to think now that it was true? You were scared, but you were also fighting down the urge to scream on the top of your lungs with joy. This was happening. You were really pregnant. You suddenly found yourself letting out a series of quiet chuckles until you felt yourself laughing like a maniac.

"So this is really happening? I’m really pregnant?” You found yourself asking the angel for clarification, as if he knew the answer. And he did. He knew since yesterday. When Cas nodded his head, you found yourself letting out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You knew this was going to be strange and confusing, not to mention the complications of being a hunter. But you thought that this was what life had given you. And like everything, you were going to fight like hell to get this. You suddenly leaned over and wrapped your arms around Cas, pulling him into a hug. “You’re more than a friend, Cas. You’re family. You’re gonna be an uncle.”

You squeezed Cas to show him the appreciation you felt for him at this strange and new chapter in your life. There were things you still needed to work out and plans you needed to make, not to mention, trying to figure out a way to tell the boys. But you didn’t want the world to know just yet. You wanted to keep this a little secret until you knew for sure. Much as you trusted the angel’s word, you had science on your side to physically show you the fetus growing in your body. As you pulled away from the angel, your smile faltered for a moment when you saw Cas staring off into space. He came back to reality a few seconds later when you spoke his name and raised your brow slightly.

"You okay?” You asked him. Before the angel could answer your question, you heard the motel door beginning to unlock. Your face suddenly dropped when you realized the boys were coming back from breakfast. “Cas…don’t speak a word of this.”

“But—” Cas didn’t understand, but you gave him a deathly glare to seal his lips shut.

A few moments later the motel door swung open, revealing the boys back from their meal. You jumped up from the bed and greeted Sam with a warm smile as you approached your boyfriend to give him a quick peck on the lips. Cas noticed the older Winchester was holding a plastic bag in his hand, the products inside were filled with things to fight the nausea you had been feeling over the past few days. He didn’t know the reason why was for something that would alter the lives of yours and the Winchesters forever.

And much as Castiel wanted to tell the truth for the sake of your health and the baby’s safety, he knew that it was best to do what you wanted. Even though he knew keeping secrets from the ones you loved hurt more than helped. You were having Dean Winchester’s child, and in time he would find out the truth when you felt it was right. As the saying goes, Mother knows best.


	7. Hunteri Heroici

You looked over your shoulder every few seconds and away from your phone screen from what you were reading to see where Sam was and what he was doing at the moment. The younger Winchester was currently talking on the phone with Mrs. Tran and leaning against the trunk of the Impala as he filled up Baby with gas like he had been over the past few minutes. You turned your attention back to your phone and continued scrolling through an article you were reading, your suspicious behavior was making it seem like you were watching some incident video in public and you were afraid of being caught. Instead you had been secretly reading about the progress of the little fetus growing inside of you and its progress.

Today marked the sixth week and fourth day of your pregnancy, and even thinking of the word made you feel queasy all over again. You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying a baby, a new human life was growing in your stomach at this very second. In less than eight months your life was going to change forever. And you had yet to tell the father you were carrying his unborn child. Cas kept reminding you that it’d be a matter of time until the truth had to come out, or one of the boys would find out for themselves. The angel said Dean would surely begin to grow suspicious when your breasts started to grow bigger. You made the wrong choice of trying to take a sip of your drink when he mentioned that small factor.

You tried to focus your attention back to the article that you were previously reading that told you the baby was only about the size of a sweet pea, it was one one fourth of an inch long. And yet the baby was making you feel exhausted and throwing up every single morning. It was funny how one small thing could do so much damage. You looked up from the screen a few moments later when you heard footsteps approaching. Dean was back from paying for the tank of gas, along with a few beers before hitting the road. You let out a sigh of envy at something you weren’t allowed to have anymore. Cas felt the need to remind you when you heard him mumble a no, as if he could tell you were eying the beer. You were a little clueless about pregnancies, but you weren’t stupid to know that you couldn’t drink anymore.

You smiled at your boyfriend and shook your head when he tried to offer you one. He didn’t think much of it, you weren’t big of a drinker before. Dean offered the open bottle to Sam instead and took the other one for himself to enjoy, the other for whoever would want it down the road. Sam happily took the beer, in exchange he gave his brother the phone with Mrs. Tran on the line who was starting to ask a few too many questions. Dean happily greeted the woman before ending the call all of three seconds later. You shoved your pocket into your back pocket and gave the older man a look from his behavior, he shrugged his shoulders, blaming the “bad connection” on a fake tunnel he was going through.

“What’s going on in Tran-land?” Dean asked, wondering what the conversation was about.

“Well, Garth finally got them on his houseboat, but Kevin’s having a lot of trouble reading their half of the tablet. So far, bits and pieces. Nothing about boarding up hell.” Sam explained to you and his brother. None of it seemed helpful to any of you, Dean couldn’t help but linger on the fact that the hunter you met a few weeks back at a safe house boat. “Dude, I don’t even ask questions anymore.”

You had only met Garth once, but he was unlike anyone you had ever met before in this hunting lifestyle. Hell, even anyone you knew in your entire thirty-something heads of being alive. Garth was a rare breed and you had to admit, you enjoyed his company after your grief of losing Bobby Singer diminished enough to see the poor guy was just trying to help out carrying on the old man’s helping hand. He was more than happy to help out the Tran family when you called him and explained the situation. And then proceeded to talk to him for five minutes about how your life was going and if the boys were behaving.

You leaned yourself against the Impala as Sam worked on taking the gas pump out of the car and getting everything ready to head off. Cas had been right besides you, reading some newspaper to occupy his time and catch up on world events that unfolded while he was gone. Dean took a sip of his beer and headed over to the both of you.

“What’s the word, Cas?” Dean curiously asked the angel.

“It’s a shortened version of my name.” The angel replied to the question in a literal sense. You found yourself letting out the quietest chuckle, causing him to look up from the paper briefly to give you a slightly confused look, wondering what was funny.

“Yes, it is. I meant what’s the word on the Word?” Dean asked the angel again, more specifically this time. “Any, uh, tablet chatter on angel radio?”

“Oh, I couldn’t say.” Cas said. “I turned that off.”

You raised your brow slightly in curiosity, “You can do that?”

“Yeah, it’s a simple matter of blocking out certain subsonic frequencies.” Cas explained to you. “I could draw you a diagram if you want—“

“No, that's—we’re good.” Dean cut off the angel, not wanting any more of the conversation topic to drag on with useless information he didn’t need to hear. “Why’d you flip the switch?”

“Because it’s a direct link to Heaven. And I don’t want anything to do with that place—not anymore.” Cas admitted his true reasons to the three of you. Your expression shifted slightly, presuming the angel’s reasons were for the ones that meant he wasn’t belonged anymore. And not to mention, his kind weren’t exactly the nicest creatures to begin with. You understood why he would want to keep his distance.

“So what now?” Dean wondered, sarcastically pondering the future for Castiel now that he was ready to ditch home to stick around on earth. “Move to Vermont, open up a charming B&B?”

“No. I still want—I still need to help people. So, I’m gonna become a hunter.” Cas smiled as he told you and the boys his announcement of what he planned on doing. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised your brow slightly, you wondered if his desire to help people was the only reason why he wanted to stick around. “I could be your third wheel for when—”

You quickly cleared your throat before Cas could accidentally spill the news about something you swore him to secrecy. Cas’ expression shifted as his smile faded. The boys seemed unsure of what was going on. “You know that’s not a good thing, right?” You asked the angel, continuing on the conversation before someone could ask what Cas meant.

“Of course it is. A third wheel adds extra grip, greater stability. And a fourth person is an equal balance.” Cas said. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes, Sam couldn’t help himself but let out a chuckle from the angel’s example. “I even found a case. Oklahoma City—man’s heart jumped ten feet out of his chest. It sounds like our kind of thing, right?”

“He’s got a point.” Sam agreed with the angel.

“Excellent. I’ll see you there.” Cas tapped on the hood of the Impala twice and turned away to start walking and teleport himself to Oklahoma City.

“Wait, Cas, Cas!” Dean called out the angel’s name, stopping him from disappearing from your sight like always. Cas turned around once again to face the older Winchester, wondering what was of importance. “If you want to play cowboys and bloodsuckers, that’s fine. But you’re gonna stick with us, okay? None of this zapping around crap. Capiche?”

“Yeah, I capiche.” Cas agreed. He stared down at the ground for a moment, disappointed in the new terms he agreed to. One of the perks of being an angel back to his old self was being able to pop up from one place to another in a fraction of a second. The concept of spending several hours in a car felt tedious. However he wanted to hunt, and if he had to abide by the Winchesters’ ways. Dean seemed happy enough as the three of you headed to the respected spots. “Can I, uh, at least ride in the front seat?”

“No.” Both of the brothers simultaneously shot down the angel’s polite request before they could even give it a thought. Sam shoved his shoulder against Cas’ as he made his way to the passenger side to take his rightful spot.

You couldn’t help yourself when you felt a smile growing on your face at the look of even more disappointment on Cas’ face. You walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, angel boy. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

Cas didn’t seem pleased with the idea. You quietly chuckled to yourself as you circled around the car to open up the backseat door to sit behind Dean as Cas slid himself inside the car to see the sight of Sam’s head. A minute later the four of you were off on the road to the case that Cas picked out, wondering what caused a man’s heart to jump out of his chest.

\+ + +

A day and a half later you and the boys arrived in Oklahoma City and found a motel decent enough to stay in during the remainder of your stay. You and the boys changed into your formal wear and headed off to the police station, Cas tagging along as well to learn a thing or two. The angel thought he knew what he was doing. He had been in your motel room watching some cop shows to pass the time while you settled in and got changed. You were interested to see how this was going to go. Much as you wanted the best for the angel, you had a feeling him trying to be a hunter was going to be more comical than helpful.

You had a case not too long back where someone was ripping hearts out of people, but you didn’t think you ever had a case where the organ jumped out of the body. Coroner said his heart was ejected from his body.” The detective working the case explained the details to the four of you, what there was for this unexplained and strange death. “Got some air, too. Found it in a sandbox.”

“Any idea what happened, Detective?” Sam asked.

“A lot of people are thinking drugs, Agent Nash,” The detective gave her suspicions on what could be blamed. “an assload of drugs.”

Most of the time when you spoke to police their theories on deaths and missing people were empty suspicions that sounded logical enough to help tie up loose ends. And while you knew the real reason what caused Gary Freling’s heart jumped out of his chest wasn’t anything natural, you kept your opinions to yourself. Castiel, however, still needed to be reminded about the right way of how to behave like a human being. 

“There are no narcotics in that man’s system.” The angel leaned over slightly to whisper his findings to you. You refrained yourself from rolling your eyes and telling him to keep his mouth shut before could blow your entire cover. “His molecules are all wrong.”

“But you don’t think that, huh?” Sam managed to speak up before the detective could asked what the stranger in a trench coat and undone tie could mean by that.

“Never seen an eight ball do that.” The detective said.

She reached over to the dead body lying on the metal slab to grab the white sheet covering Gary’s naked body to reveal the wound that made headlines and lead you here. Your face scrunched up slightly to see an almost literal heart shape in the man’s chest of the exit wound. While you wouldn’t consider yourself a squeamish person from the things you had seen alone, your stomach felt a little queasy at the sight of the open wound that looked not exactly surgical, but nobody ripped the heart out from what you’ve seen before. You swallowed slightly as you looked away from the gaping hole and back to the detective.

“And who called this in?” You asked her.

“Friend of his named Olivia Kopple. She saw the whole thing.” The detective said. As she pulled the sheet back up to cover the victim’s body her phone began to start ringing. Looking down at the name that popped on the screen, she let out a sigh and grabbed a case file for you to read over. “Ah, crap. I have to take this. Here’s everything we got. Knock yourself out.“

You smiled and thanked the woman for her help. The detective returned the gesture and began to walk out of the morgue, but Dean stopped her for another moment, handing over a business card with his cell on it. “Listen, you see anything weird, anything out of the box, you give us a call.”

The detective examined the card for a moment and looked back up at the older man, “Whatever you say, Scully.” She chuckled to herself at his odd way of putting it and pocketed the card in her blazer jacket. You glanced up from the case file for a moment as the detective headed off. “Detective Glass…On my way.”

 

When the detective was out of sight and hearing distance, Cas got to work going through the short checklist of things you and the boys searched for in strange cases like this. “I can’t sense any EMF or sulfur.” The angel said, which meant a demon and a spirit weren’t to be blamed for this death. “Mr. Freleng’s arterial health is, uh, excellent.”

You hummed quietly as you half listened to what Cas was say exactly, most of your attention was kept on the file you were reading to see if you could try and find anything useful in here. However you found your attention lingering back up when you saw Cas do something rather…odd, if you could even call it that. You felt your face scrunch up she. The angel bent down so he was at level with the body and began sniffing Gary’s corpse like some kind of dog trying to get a scent. You slowly looked around the morgue, praying to God nobody was watching. You were more embarrassed than afraid if someone caught Cas in the act.

“He did recently suffer from a mild, uh…” Cas sniffed the corpse a few times to get a better sense of what he was trying to look for. You read somewhere that pregnant woman had a better sense of smell, and while you would agree with that statement, this was a whole other level of weird you were comfortable with. You read somewhere that pregnant women had a stronger sense of smell when they were carrying. And you noticed it not too long ago. But Cas was taking this to a whole other level. “What is that? …Bladder infection.”

“Cas, stop smelling the dead guy.” Dean hissed at the angel. He cautiously looked around the morgue to see if anyone had the angel doing something very inhuman that would only lead to all sorts of questions. You and Sam found yourselves sharing a look of disturbance as you wrinkled your nose slightly from the smells alone he was able to pick up.

“Why? Now I know everything about this man.” Cas said. “So we can—”

“Hey, Lassie. Did you happen to smell any sort of women’s perfume on Gary’s body?” You asked the angel. Cas stared at you with a slightly perplexed expression from your question. He wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. You felt your lips stretch into a smirk in victory at what you managed to find, and without looking like a creep to do it. “Did your impeccable nose tell you he was having an affair?”

Cas seemed taken back at your accusation you managed to come up with on your own, “What?”

“Strike one, Sherlock.” Dean said. You chuckled quietly to yourself as you saw a look of disappointment cross the angel’s face how hard he was trying to help you, but it wasn’t getting him very far. "You wanna learn to be a hunter, take a note here from Nancy Drew.“

“According to Olivia, they would meet at the park every Thursday at 12:45, walk to the Moonlight diner, where she always ordered a caesar salad, dressing on the side. They would chat about everything, and she’d be back on the road by 1:30.” You read off the statement Olivia gave to the police that was the first red flag to show that something was off here. Cas, however, didn’t see any sort of potential holes in her story. It seemed like a solid alibi.

“You don’t think she’s telling the truth.” Cas suspected.

“Too much detail.” Dean said. “Sounds rehearsed.”

“Plus, we drove past the Moonlight diner on the way into town.” You added on. “It’s attached to the Moonlight motel.” 

"Okay, well, let’s say that Gary’s here on the prowl, but he’s playing it safe because…” Dean reached out to sneak a hand underneath the sheet to grab the victim’s left hand, proving his suspicions of what was making Gary sneak around. You noticed the gold band on his ring finger, you shook your head at his infidelity as Dean chuckled to himself. “Dude’s married. Doesn’t want anyone to see his ride parked out in front of a by-the-hour fleabag.”

“So he stashes his car at the park across the street, meets Olivia there.” Sam said.

“His wife probably found out about it and it broke her heart. So she breaks his.” You concluded what must have been going on here. You and the boys had been hunting together for almost a decade now. While the boys had an unnatural talent of speaking at the exact same time, all three of you worked in perfect sync in figuring out this hunt. Cas stood back and watched as the scene unfolded, feeling a little left out. You crossed your arms over your chest at what could be blamed for this. “Sounds witchy.”

“Yes, it does. Guy was living a lie, and it came back to bite him in the ticker.” Dean said. He let out a chuckle from how the poor bastard went out. Most of the cases you worked involving dead bodies were people who were victims, and then there was people like Gary who cheated on his wife with some chick. Karma was a real thing, and he had this coming. “Nice job on the batter infection, by the way.”

Cas was smart enough to tell that the compliment the older Winchester had given him wasn’t exactly that, but sarcasm at the lack of help he could provide for the hunt. You rolled your eyes and followed behind Dean, mumbling for him to play nice. Sam found himself staying behind for just a moment at the words that his brother had to say about living a lie. You only made it to the doorway leading out of the morgue before the words hit you. One hand rested on the swinging door and the other grazed slightly over your stomach. Sam spent an entire year living a lie with Amelia, you were keeping a secret from the brothers that their family was about to grow. The real question was, what kind of karma was going to bite you in the ass when the truth came out?

\+ + +

You, the boys and Cas headed to the Freleng’s household to speak to Gary’s wife Debbie, to see if she had any possible information that might help figuring out who or what might have wanted to kill her husband. Along with if she was the type of person who knew some heavy duty witchcraft to get back at her cheating husband. She sat at the table with a box of tissues at the subject matter she was being forced to speak about again. You gave her a sympathetic smile as you casually stood in the living room with your arms crossed over your chest. You noticed there was a few cards sent to the grieving window to give their condolences.

“I don’t understand.” Debbie said. She looked at the four strangers occupying her house with confusion as to what reason why all of you were doing here. Her husband’s case was already declared solved. “Gary had a heart attack. Why would the FBI—”

“The parks are government property.” Dean cut off the woman, giving her some excuse to help reason the fact that you were poking your noses into her husband’s death. “We just got a few questions for you.”

"I’ll, uh…I’ll handle this. I’ve done research. I can crack her.” Cas offered to take over this part of the hunt he thought he could handle.

You knew the angel was trying his hardest to be helpful here after his failed attempt with the dead body. But you found yourself staring at him with a slightly hesitant expression from what he was about to do. Interviewing people was a tricky situation that needed to be handled just right. Almost everyone had to be considered a suspect with these kind of things when you suspected a witch was what you were hunting. If you pissed off one of them—one who could make her husband’s heart jump out of his chest—the possibilities were endless for a couple of hunters poking their noses where they thought didn’t belong.

“Uh, actually …” You spoke up as you pointed a finger at Cas, your lips stretching into a small smile as you tried to offer to take over. But you found yourself trailing off as the angel walked over to the grieving widow, giving his best impression of Columbo. You refrained yourself from rolling your eyes as you dropped your hand back down to your side. You were starting to regret letting him watch all those old cop shows to get himself prepared.

“Now, Ms. Freleng, I don’t want to bother you. I-I really don’t. But I-I do have just one question for you.” Cas was trying his hardest to be a good hunter. You had to admit he was coming from a good place for his excuse, but the execution was just all wrong. He suddenly slammed his palm straight down on the table, catching everyone off guard from his sudden shift in behavior. “Why did you kill your husband?!”

“Agent Stills.” You quickly spoke up. “A word, please.”

Debbie let out a quiet sob from the hostility being thrown at her, it was a justified response from the third degree Cas had given her. You walked across the room to give you and the angel some distance from the group. You crossed your arms over your chest once more and gave him a serious expression from his hostile behavior.

“What?” Cas asked you, unsure of why you were upset. “I was being bad cop.”

“No, you were being bad everything.” You whispered to him.

“Please, forgive my partner.” Sam apologized for the angel’s hostile behavior as he took a seat across from the widow across the table. “He’s, uh—he’s going through some stuff.”

“Listen to Sam.” You ordered at the angel.

“What he was trying to ask—is there any way Gary might have had secrets—something he was hiding?” Sam asked her, hoping she might spill a few details for you. The younger Winchester had a way with getting personal with people and making them feel comfortable. It was his caring demeanor and his sympathetic charm. But it seemed Debbie was unsure of what he was trying to get at. Or she was playing dumb to keep her own ass safe.

Before Sam could elaborate more on the question, there was a knock on the door to announce the arrival of an unexpected guest. You heard a female voice approaching as she called out the widow’s name. Debbie pushed herself up to her feet when she saw the woman come in with what appeared to be casserole. You didn’t know what it was about food and death. Whenever someone died there was always an abundance of food to be ate. Debbie broke down into tears again when she embraced the woman into a hug. Olivia seemed like a family friend from how she was crying herself as she embraced her friend. But you could only imagine it wasn’t only for her friend’s loss.

“As in mistress Olivia?” Dean wondered.

“This is awkward.” Cas said.

“I’m sorry.” Debbie composed herself as she stood next to Olivia, focusing back to the question she was asked. “What did you think Gary was hiding?”

“That he was sleeping with her.” The angel had still yet to learn about being subtle. He pointed a finger at Olivia to make clear of who he was accusing his dead husband of being unfaithful to. You let out a frustrated sigh from how much trouble he had gotten you into. But it seemed that being blunt worked in your favor for this one. Just because the Freleng had an apple pie life, it didn’t mean their sex life was normal.

“I know.” Debbie said. She suddenly felt awkward as she explained the open marriage she had with her late husband. “Gary and I—We…had an arrangement. He was seeing Olivia, and I was spending some time with our neighbor P.J.”

You raised your brow slightly at what you just learned, admitting in all honesty that you were feeling a little shocked from what you learned. Debbie and Olivia excused themselves off to the kitchen to put away the casserole, leaving the four of you alone. You weren’t the type of person who judged others on what they did in the bedroom. Mostly because you didn’t want to hear about the personal details of someone’s sex life. Yet, for some odd reason you couldn’t shake off the idea of them having an open relationship. On the outside they might have looked like any other vanilla couple, but behind closed doors the idea of being someone that wasn’t their partner got them off. Whatever made them happy, you thought to yourself.

“Frigging suburbs, man.” Dean muttered.

“So she’s not a witch.” Cas said. He seemed to understand that Debbie would have no reason to murder her husband for sleeping with another woman, because he wasn’t being unfaithful.

“Just the best wife ever.” The older Winchester whispered.

You quickly looked over at the man when you caught what he just said. You narrowed your eyes on him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You’d want something like that?”

“Yeah.” Dean said. Your expression shifted slightly into an angered one from his honestly as you opened your mouth to tell him about how much of a pervert he was. But it went into a direction you should have seen coming. Either he was covering his tracks, or he was just a smooth talker. “If we were married to other people and I got to spend some time with you. Makes things more exciting.”

You rolled your eyes and moved your direction from the man, refraining yourself from making a remark like you wanted. “If she didn’t kill her husband, then what did?”

“Who gives a s—”

“Language.”

You managed to cut off Dean before he could slip an unnecessary word into the conversation that you didn’t like to hear, even though you weren’t a stranger to using colorful enhancements when the time called for it. He gave you a slightly annoyed look from your behavior, you ignored it and turned your attention over to Debbie. You gave the woman a sympathetic smile and gave her your condolences for the loss. All four of you excused yourselves out of the house to let the two women grieve over their loss and head back to the motel to figure out what killed Gary. If it wasn’t a scorned lover, then what was it?

\+ + +

Once was an accident, twice was a coincidence. But you didn’t need to have a third body on your hands to realize something something strange was going on here. The four of you were leaving the Freleng’s house when Dean got a call from Detective Case about there being another recent death you might have been interested in checking out. That’s how you found yourself leaning over the edge of the building best as you could from where you stood with your arms crossed over your chest to try and keep yourself warm. The height and soft breeze that passed every so often made you feel freezing cold. And not to mention, facing such a steep drop made a shiver run down your spine in unrealistic fear. You hated being up so high.

Sam had one foot on the very edge of the building from where the victim took the swan dive and the other on the part where you stood, wanting to get a view for himself. You knew there really wasn’t a chance Sam could get hurt while his footing straddled the edge of the building, but you still had your worries about luck. But you still let out a sigh of relief when the man step back to the part of the building where the rest of you were. You walked back over to the detective and Dean to discuss what happened here and why she felt the need to call you if it was just really a guy who jumped off his office building.

“Looks like suicide.” Sam said as shrugged his shoulders, not sure what else it could be.

“It was. Guy left a note.” The detective said, adding more evidence that this seemed like a open and shut case. “He invested everything in Roman Industries and lost it all when they crashed and burned last year.”

“So why call us?” You asked her, curious to get to the bottom of this.

“Because I have two witnesses who swear that Madoff here floated in midair for a good ten seconds, then he looked down, and splat.” Detective Case explained more details that seemed like the kind of stuff that you would be interested in. You raised your brow slightly from the witness reporting that did seem like your kind of thing. Sort of like how a guy’s heart jumped out of his chest. It was just weird enough to be connected. “Not sure I buy that, but the way they’re talking, it sounds like something straight out of a—”

“Cartoon.” Dean finished the detective’s thought.

“You said you wanted weird.” The detective said.

You smiled and thanked the detective before she was called over by another officer that needed her help. When she was a safe distance away across the building, the three of you started to discuss what this might have meant for the outcome of this case. You noticed Cas was coming forward after he had spent a few minutes standing at the edge of the building just staring off into the sight of the city. You turned your attention back over to Dean when he spoke up again.

“She’s right, you know.” Dean agreed with the detective. “I mean, the whole heart jumping out of the guy’s chest, the delayed fall—that’s straight-up Bugs Bunny.”

“So we’re looking for some sort of insect-rabbit hybrid?” The angel wondered. You felt your lips stretching into a small smile at how he was taking this almost a little too literally. He had still so many things to learn about pop culture. “How do we kill it?”

“No, we don’t, Cas.” Sam said, chuckling to himself. “That’s a character, like, uh—like Woody Woodpecker or Daffy Duck.”

“They’re little animated movies. You know, uh, the coyote chases a roadrunner, and then the anvil gets dropped on his head.” Dean tried to explain to the angel about what they were.

The three of you found yourselves smiling at the faint memories of the hand drawn cartoons that dated back from the fifties and sixties. You remembered watching them on Saturday mornings in your pajamas and laughing at the dumbest anticis that were the same gags over and over again. Not to mention the crude and outdated humor that you didn’t see anymore. But for a six year old they were the funniest things ever. Hell, you’d probably sit down and watch them again and still laugh at the same jokes. Cas, however, didn’t understand the appeal for a bunch of adults your age. He thought cartoons were supposed to be for children.

"Is that supposed to be funny?” Cas asked.

“No.” Dean said. His expression dropped into a serious one from the question. Cas stared at the hunter with a bit of confusion to why the three of you were laughing just a moment ago if they weren’t supposed to be comical. “It’s hilarious.”

You rolled your eyes from the older Winchester’s response, “I’m sure there’s some old reruns on TV or clips on YouTube I can find for you to watch. They are really funny.”

Cas still wasn’t sure what was so comically funny about an animated cartoon animal being put in physical harm to catch its prey to survive. You shook your head from his way of thinking and began heading for the exit, wanting to get off of this roof and back down on solid ground. Not only because the view above was starting to make you feel even more nervous, but you knew you were about to be up to your eyeballs in research to figure out what was making gags from cartoons come to life.

\+ + +

When you got back to the motel you claimed your spot on one of the double beds as the boys took the table to try and conduct some research to figure out what was going on. Cas occupied his time by watching TV after you handed him the remote and told him to entertain himself. You tried wracking your brain to figure out what the hell could cause a guy’s heart to leap out of his chest and for someone to float in the air for just a moment before falling to their death. All of it seemed like someone was playing by cartoon rules, but the question remained, who was doing it? You were trying to figure out the mystery, but there was only so much you could accomplish.

One of the downsides of forming a new life was they took almost every ounce of your energy as they created their internal organs. You also weren’t allowed have caffeine, either. Which was a big part of how you managed to stay up for long as you did without slumping over. It was hard to keep this little bundle of joy a secret from the boys. But you were trying your hardest while doing the proper steps to make sure they would come out healthy. And yet still pretending like everything was normal. You thought you could lay your head on the pillow and shut your eyes for five minutes. But it seemed that time slipped by and you woke up with it being darker outside than you remembered and hearing someone’s overly enthusiastic voice promising you they’d be back after this commercial break.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you slowly began to come back around from the nap that you must have took without realizing it. Your laptop had a dead battery after you neglected to plug it in, the boys were still at the table hard at work and Cas was wrapping up watching the animated cartoons he’d been watching since arriving back to the motel. He turned off the TV, seeming to have watched enough of the little animations to understand why people loved them so much. You shut your laptop and threw it to the edge for safekeeping so you could sit up more properly in bed. Cas chuckled to himself, prompting you and the boys to look at him, unsure of what was so funny.

“I understand. The bird represents God. And coyote is man, endlessly chasing the divine, but yet never able to catch him. It’s…” Cas explained his understanding of the cartoon in a way that wasn’t meant of how they were supposed to be represented. You furrowed your brow slightly as the brothers stared at him with nothing but confusion of how he got that idea. “It’s hilarious.”

Dean didn’t even bother to go more in depth with the angel’s thinking. He was too tired and stressed from the lack of leads he could find. “I got no idea what we’re hunting. Maybe it’s a tulpa. Maybe it’s some crazy god who watched too much ‘Robot Chicken.’” Dean said, rubbing his eyes to get them to focus again after spending so long staring at his father’s journal. “I mean is there a link between 'Heartbreak Hotel’ and 'Free Fallin’?”

“Not that I could find.” Sam admitted.

“All right, well, I’m gonna call it.” Dean said. “Cas, are you gonna book a room or what?”

The angel went from watching TV to now taking it upon himself to start poking his nose into one of the Winchester’s belongings and tolities. It seemed he was fascinated with what humans had to do in order to keep themselves hygienically clean and healthy. “No, I’ll stay here.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. We’ll have a slumber party and braid Y/N and Sam’s hair.” Dean sarcastically said, pretending to make a night of it. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“I don’t sleep.” Cas said.

“Okay, well, I need my four hours, so…” Dean trailed off for a moment, hoping the angel would get the hint that he wanted some privacy for the rest of the night.

“I’ll watch over you.” Cas offered in the most caring and innocent tone of voice. Little did the angel realIze how creepy it sounded. You found yourself letting out a quiet laugh from his generosity the older Winchester quickly denied from the grim look that spread across his face.

You were about to offer for Cas to room with you tonight so the boys could have some privacy and a decent night’s sleep, but before you could the angel was slowly rising to his feet. A look of concentration crossed his face as if he was listening in on a conversation going on in his head. He placed his fingers against his temple, you gave him a look of worry from what was going on.

“Something’s coming across the police band.” Cas said.

“Wait, you can hear that?” Sam asked the angel.

“It’s all waves.” Cas mumbled. He concentrated on the voices he was suddenly hearing and the crime that was being reported at this very moment. “A bank has been robbed. It sounds looney.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, “Define ‘looney.”

\+ + +

Cas said the call being reported to the police was about a man crushed to death from a two thousand pound anvil. Yeah, you’d define that as looney. And disgusting. You grimaced at the sight of blood and guts on the bank floor and about a foot from where you stood. You refused to get any closer than you had to. It was bad enough you felt tired and nauseous all the time. You weren’t going to lose what food was still digesting in your stomach to join the other bodily fluids on the ground. You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked over at the brothers, wondering if this was the kind of stuff they remembered from the cartoons. 

“That’s loony, all right.” Sam agreed with the angel’s suspicions about this crime. 

“Agents. I was just about to give you a ring.” Detective Case called out. You looked over at the familiar law enforcement who you had seen at both previous crime scenes. It seemed she had her hands full of the unexplained. You greeted her with a small smile as she approached you and the boys, Cas was off in the distance, distracted with something at the desk. “Got to ask—do you guys chase the crazy, or does the crazy chase you?”

“Depends on the day.” You replied. You nodded your head to the body that was reduced to a mess on the ground the four of you were surrounding. “Who’s the pancake?”

“Security guard. He called in reporting a robbery, but by the time we got here…” The detective trailed off, her eyes wandering to what remained of the guard. Sam repeated the crime that was committed here, it felt a little too clean for this to be a robbery. “Looks like the ‘Black Hole’ was trying to jimmy open a safe-deposit box when Mr. Rent-A-Cop found him. And, well…” 

You looked over to the side of the building where you noticed the vault containing valuables worth more than all of your lives combined together. A few forensic investigators were taking appeared to be a very literal black hole painted on the wall. Your brow furrowed slightly from what the hell was going on here. “you know how that story ends.” The detective said. 

“Black hole?” Cas asked, seeming interested in the nickname the

“It’s our name for a burglar that’s been running us ragged. He’s a pro—no fingerprints, never any sign of forced entry—just a pair of those every time…” The detective nodded her head to the large black hole that, with a bit of a further examination, looked like a decent size for someone to sneak in and out of, along with whatever he was trying to steal. “like he’s signing his work. Perp’s never done anything like this before, though…obviously.”

“You mind if I take a look at your files on those other break-ins?” Sam asked, the detective shrugged her shoulders in agreeance.

“No skin off my nose. I’m headed to the station now if you want a ride.” The detective offered.

The detective and Sam made their way to the exit, leaving you and Dean to examine more of the crime scene along with Cas. Your attention dwindled away from the shutting door that Sam slipped out of and back to the two thousand pound hunk of metal you were standing next to. While you wouldn’t consider yourself a weak person, you had your doubts that you and the older Winchester could move this thing yourself. without hurting yourself, or just looking like an idiot. You looked up at him and raised your brow slightly, wondering how the hell you were going to do this. Dean had a plan, and it didn’t even require you to lift a finger.

“Hey.” Dean said, getting the angel’s attention. “Can you lift this?”

Cas seemed a tad bit annoyed by the request, but he did it anyway. You stepped out of the way and let him work his magic, somehow moving two thousand pounds without even breaking a sweat over the puddle of human remains, letting the anvil clank to the floor. Out of caution, you glanced around the bank to see if anyone had seen what Cas had done, luckily, it was just the three of you. You looked back down at the exact spot where the security guard had stood right before his untimely death. You let out a noise when you saw something marked on the floor, and it looked to have been done in Sharpie.

“‘X’ marks the spot.” Dean mumbled. You and him found yourselves looking up at the ceiling to see there was no way possible this Black Hole perp could have lugged in a two thousand pound weight and hung it from the ceiling. But if someone where to mark the ground, then you had to take a wild guess that the anvil came out of thin air, crushing the unsuspecting guard before he realized what was coming. “Well, whoever’s doing this is playing by cartoon rules.”

“Animation doesn’t have rules.” Cas said. The angel might have watched a few episodes of cartoons, but he still didn’t understand the universe and the rules it played by.

“Sure it does. In Toontown, a pretty girl can make your heart leap out of your chest. Anvils fall from the sky, and if you draw a door or a black hole on the wall,” You pointed to the painted black dot on the wall and began walking over to it to inspect it for yourself to see if it might still be radioactive for you. “You can stroll right through it.”

“So this is how the thief got in.” The angel suspected.

“And out. And cracked the vault.” Dean added.

Cas attempted to try and gain himself access through the black hole like the thief had. But when he placed his hand against the hole and pushed, all he felt was the wall. He tried a few more times before realizing that he had no way of getting through. “Then why isn’t it working now?”

You knocked on the wall, hearing a solid thud echo off. Furrowing your brow, you placed your hands on your hips and let out a sigh from the lack of answers you could provide. “I have no idea.”

\+ + +

The three of you headed back to the motel after learning what you could about the crime scene, despite it being a dead end and another dead body on your hands, which was just about what the police had. Dean retired back to his room to do a bit more research while you decided to call it quits for the night, blaming your tiredness on symptoms of your “approaching period” that he presumed was coming soon. Little did he realize that it wouldn’t be coming this month, or the one after, and the one after that…You wanted to tell him the truth about why you really were calling it quits almost near midnight and you weren’t downing coffee to keep yourself awake.

Part of the reason why you were so hesitant to tell Dean was the timing and privacy to break the news to him. You found out you were carrying after you got Kevin and Mrs. Tran to safety and Cas mysteriously came back from the dead, not to mention you and the boys picked up a hunt to keep yourselves busy. There was a lot going on right now. You couldn’t just pull Dean aside from everything and tell him the news. And you thought if you told him about your condition after the hunt he’d freak out for putting yourself in danger. But what if you told him during the hunt?

The urge came to you when you were standing in his motel room saying your final good night to him before you headed to bed and he was stuck doing research until the wee hours. You didn’t know when you got a better chance. Sam was still at the station, Cas was already off in your motel room to give Dean some privacy. You opened your mouth to let the two words slip out of your mouth, but quick as the urge came, it also passed. You suddenly felt weird letting the truth slip out like that so easily. And beating around the bush would only make him nervous for what you had to say. How the hell do you tell your boyfriend that you were carrying his unborn child?

“Hey, remember that talk we had after the hunt where you almost got your heart ripped out by a nearly thousand year old God? You told me about how you got another girl pregnant and Sam had to kill your own child? Not to mention, we talked about how I wanted to have a family of our own? And how we had sex afterwards? Well…guess what? I’m pregnant!”

You weren’t scared at the thought of Dean being a good father or not. He’d be the best that he he could be, and better than his own. You got a glimpse of parenthood when you and him took care of a shifter baby you named Bobby John after asked by its father that was disguised as a friendly looking older woman. And while it wasn’t for more than a day, Dean didn’t panic, he didn’t ignore the baby and his needs. He was hands on and did what needed to be done. If it was a glimpse into the future, you felt confident. You were more afraid of how he was going to handle the news at first.

Dean’s idea of family was Sam, Bobby and you. His only best friend was an angel that just recently came back from purgatory without a memory of how he got back. Not to mention, all of you had been put in danger and died so many times. And you didn’t think you ever met a hunter who had a family that didn’t die bloody. You weren’t asking for an apple pie life, just a safe one. Dean would come to terms with his new reality, whether he liked it or not. Just…not tonight.

You went back to your motel room with Cas occupying one of the beds as you went on with your nightly routine to get ready for bed. As you brushed your teeth and packed away your fed clothes after changing into some pajamas, Cas occupied his time by reading through John’s journal to see he might find anything that could explain how reality was being shaped into a Saturday morning cartoon. You and the boys had read through the thing so many times you were surprised it wasn’t falling it apart after all these years. You found yourself stopping in your routine for a moment to just observing the angel. For some reason you thought it was rather odd to see Cas sitting there, reading the rare thoughts and notes of John Winchester.

"It’s amazing how every human has almost a distinct way of how they write. It’s almost like a fingerprint.” Cas spoke up for the first time since coming back. “John had beautiful handwriting.”

“Mmm. It’s unique. But a bitch to read when you’re half-asleep and stressed up to your eyeballs.” You said after you walked over to the bathroom sink and spit out the toothpaste. You rinsed the toothbrush underneath the faucet and put it back in its rightful spot so it wouldn’t get dirty. As you headed out of the bathroom with your toiletries in your hand, you found your gaze slowly lingering back to the angel. “How are you feeling, Cas?”

The angel looked up from the journal as he turned to another page, he seemed content at the moment. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I just—I know that when I got out of hell, and then the cage…and when Dean got out of purgatory, it took us a few weeks to get adjusted back into the swing of things.” You eased your concern into the conversation as you stood where you were. Cas repeated himself, saying that he was just fine. You bit your bottom lip as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Don’t get me wrong, the boys and I are happy you’re back. Hell, I’m freaking thrilled. It’s just this whole mysterious-resurrection thing—it always has a fine line we want to ignore.”

Cas seemed to have figured out what you were trying to do. It was a simple move you pulled a thousand times with the Winchesters. You thought you could get him to open up about whatever that might have been bothering him. He shut the journal and looked at you. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Maybe take a trip upstairs.” You proposed. Cas’ facial expression shifted when he realized you were talking about Heaven, the one place he was trying to get far away from. You shrugged your shoulders. “I know it’s not ideal. But they seem to know a hell of a lot. I mean, I don’t think it would hurt if you poked your nose around, see if the God Squad can’t tell us how you got out.” 

Cas’ answer was simple, “No.”

“Look, Cas, I hate them much as you do, but—”

“Y/N! I said no!”

When the angel cut you off and snapped in a way you had never heard from him before, slowly you began to realize that you had hit a sensitive never in him. Your expression softened as you stopped pushing him to do something that he clearly wasn’t comfortable with. You walked over to the empty bed you claimed as yours and sat on the edge so you were across from him. You gave the angel your full undivided attention the way a friend does for someone who they loved was down. Cas had been there for you at your very worst, you felt it was time to return the favor.

“Talk to me.” You whispered to the angel. “Why can’t you go back home?”

“Y/N, I…” Cas let out a heavy sigh. He placed the book on the bed and adjusted himself so he was facing forward so he could look at you directly in the eye. You gave him a concerned expression, showing him that you cared deeply for him. You wanted to help the best way that you could, because that’s what friends did for each other. “When you were gone…I did things that I regret deeply to this very day. It’s partially the reason I wanted to stay in Purgatory.”

“The boys told me the jist of it.” You said, stopping him from cutting open old wounds to retell details that might make him feel more guilty than he should. "You ate a bunch of souls. Decided to take a walk on the wild side.”

“You don’t understand. It’s more complicated than you want to think. And I can’t lie. When I was bad…and I had all those things—the…the levianths writhing inside me..I caused a lot of suffering on earth, but I devastated Heaven.” Cas admitted the truth to you. You thought the situation was pretty bad while you were gone, but you didn’t take a second to think about Cas and the effects it had on him from his own actions. “I vaporized thousands of my own kind, and I-I-I can’t go back.”

You let out a quiet breath, your mind drifting to his safety. You knew how his brothers and sisters acted. If any of them stepped out of line they never hesitated to smite their own kind. And after what Cas did, you thought surely they would have a bounty on his life. ”'Cause if you do, the angels will kill you.“

“Because if I see what heaven’s become—what I…what I made of it,” Cas let out a sigh, trailing off for a moment before saying something that even caught you off guard. “I’m afraid I might kill myself.”

You liked to think you and Cas had a different friendship from every other one that you had with the brothers, even Josh. It was because you and the him developed a bond while the world was falling apart. Cas was supposed to be a stone cold angel, you had your entire life tailored to be a demon puppet for Lucifer’s enjoyment. Neither one of you did what you were told, you put your life on the line for the boys so many times to count. Yeah, you might have butted heads a few too many times over the years. but you did it plenty of times with Sam and Dean. But the thought of Cas doing something to end his life because of shame made your stomach twist into knots. You just got him back, there was no way in hell you were letting him out of your sight.

You felt it was your duty to tell him this feeling of…guilt, regret…things you very much felt after you got back from the cage would pass. Cas had been your shoulder to cry on at your very worst moments and pulled you back to the surface when you were ready to end it all in your own way. But your heart to heart was quickly cut short when you heard someone knocking on your motel room door. You looked over your shoulder in confusion at who it could be, and while you were choosing to ignore it, Cas took it upon himself to answer it. When you saw the door open, you let out a quiet sigh of annoyance when you saw that it was Sam.

“Hey. I got something.” Sam said. “Thought you guys might want to hear this.”

"Good. Excellent.” Cas said. And just like that, it seemed your moment was over. Cas must have hung out with the boys too long while you were gone. Because he was acting an awful lot like them, shunning his emotions away. “We’ll be right over.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up to your feet, “This better be good, Sammy.”

The three of you headed to the brothers’ motel room that was just a few doors down from yours. You trailed behind in your pajamas while Dean was still wearing his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Sam loosened his tie, and Cas hadn’t changed his look since the very first day you knew him. You stood next to the table with a slightly annoyed expression on your face and your arms crossed over your chest. You raised your brow slightly, wondering what kind of information was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning.

“So this black-hole guy—before he tried the bank, he robbed a house across from the park where Gary blew a gasket.” Sam said.

“So, you think the house heist and Gary’s corpse are connected?” You asked.

“According to the file, they happened pretty much the exact same time. Here. Check this out.” Sam pulled out a map of Oklahoma City and laid out on the table. You noticed he circled three different locations, and inside three x marks. He pointed to one of the circles. “Here’s the house, and Gary died across the street here. And that building this morning—right there. The black hole hit that, too.”

“Let me guess—where, uh, what’s his name took a swan dive.” Dean took a wild guess. Sam nodded his head. You had to admit, you were growing intrigued with what the younger man had found. “All right. I’ll bite. What about the others?”

“Well, those are places that stuff got stolen. But nobody got dead. Take away the grafiti, and these all look like just normal smash-and-grabs. But I made a few phone calls, talked to some people who are nearby—neighbors and whatnot—and they reported a whole lot of crazy.” Sam explained to the three of you. He pulled out a case file from what he took from the station for you to look at first.

“Like?” You asked, glancing up from the crime scene photos, wondering what he meant by that.

“Like a jogger bumping his head and sprouting a four-inch lump or a kid walking into a wall and hearing birdies” Sam said. You raised your brow slightly in curiosity. “Basically, for fifty yards around each robbery, people were living in a cartoon. But it didn’t last long—I mean, five, ten minutes at each place.”

“About the length of time it would take a thief to get in and out.” Cas said.

“Exactly. But whatever power he’s using, it’s not targeted. I mean, it’s kind of like an area of effect.” Sam said, trying to give you a visual of what was going on. “I mean, picture him a bubble of weird,and anything that touches it gets daffy.”

 

“So this animanic can step through walls, can toss an anvil?” You asked.

“Yeah, but he’s warping reality to do it.” Sam said. The actions of the perp had consequences and rules from the cartoon reality. “So if someone happens to be nearby meeting the girl of his dreams…”

“His heart makes a break for it.” Dean guessed. Sam nodded his head, that’s exactly what was going on. And explained how Gary Freleng’s heart jumped ten feet out of his chest. “Okay, so smashing the rent-a-cop—that was on purpose, but the rest of them—what, is that just a collateral weird?”

Sam shrugged, “Maybe.”

“So we’re looking for a thief.” Cas took an educated guess.

“And the deposit box he was after. Now, the house, the office—every place he’s hit belonged to someone living at the sunset fields retirement home.” Sam said. He pulled out another file from the belongings he borrowed from the station. Well, at least you had a lead of where to look.

“So you think our guy’s there.” You wondered.

“Worth a shot.” Sam said.

“All right. Well, let’s gear up. It’s wabbit season.” Dean said, clapping his hands as he uttered the famous words from a cartoon character you remembered fondly. You grew a smile as you let out a chuckle of amusement. As you rubbed your eyes and got ready to tell Cas to start heading back to the room with you, you dropped your hands back down to your side from what you heard him say.

“I don’t think you pronounced that correctly.” Cas mumbled to the older Winchester, thinking he might be a good friend and correct the man’s pronunciation.

“Let’s go, Cas.” You said. “I think you need to watch a few more cartoons, doc.”

The angel was about to say that he wasn’t a doctor, not sure why you called him that. You rolled your eyes and shook your head in annoyance. You headed back to your room and crawled into bed, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before tomorrow and its shenanigans would bring.

\+ + +

You’ve interviewed too many people to remember in your time as a hunter, mostly in the privacy of their own homes or their workplace and sometimes at the scene of the crime, wherever you could find them to ask a string of odd questions. However you had to admit talking to a group of elderly people while they spent their remaining days in a retirement home was most definitely a new one for you. You headed down the hall to the day room after speaking to a friendly nurse at the front desk to see if you could speak to some of the residents here. The place wasn’t creepy as you expected it to be, the staff seemed friendly and attentive as you passed by a few people that were old enough to be your grandparents. But not everyone thought it like that.

Dean wasn’t exactly comfortable in a place like this where Death was a frequent visitor and the place smelled awfully lot like old woman’s perfume and cleaning product. He walked down the hall with his brother and to the day room where he saw a handful of old people spread around the place, Dean managed to look at the right time when he noticed an elderly man using a walking in a breathing mask pass by him. Dean stepped out of the way and tried to be polite as possible, letting the man pass. You gave the older man a friendly smile when he passed by you and made his way down the hall. When you looked over at Dean, you let out a quiet chuckle at the sight of his slightly disturbed expression as he pressed himself against the wall covered in all sorts of posters and advertisement for classes the home offered.

“Come on.” You muttered quietly to him, lightly elbowed the man in the ribs from how dramatic he was being. “It’s not that bad.”

“You can’t tell me this place doesn’t give you the heebs and/or jeebs, Y/N.” Dean whispered, only making the smile on your face grow wider in amusement.

“Hello.” A male voice made your smile fade quick as it came. Directing your attention forward, a man in a suit and glasses greeted the four of you. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Agent Crosby. FBI.” Dean introduced the four of you, prompting you and the boys to pull out your fake badges to draw the lie out farther. Cas stood in the back, suddenly feeling a bit unprepared. He’d been trying so hard to learn how to be a hunter, he forgot the most basic thing like a badge to blend in better with the rest of you. However the man didn’t seem to notice.

“Sorry, I’m Dr. Dwight Mahoney.” He said, lifting up the laminated badge pinned to the pocket on his suit to show the four of you. “I run Sunset Fields.”

“We need to question your residents.” Cas said, explaining the reason why all of you were here.

“Well…why?” Dr. Mahoney asked with slight confusion. “About what?”

“Grand Larceny, mostly.” Sam answered.

Dr. Mahoney understood the matters must have been serious if the FBI were involved. He didn’t seem to show any hesitate when he agreed. “Of course. Um, by all means, ask away. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“We appreciate it. Thank you.” You said, giving the man a friendly smile for his cooperation. Dr. Mahoney stepped out of the way to carry on with his tasks around the home to make sure his residences were comfortable and happy. When he was gone, you looked over your shoulder and pointed a finger at Sam and Cas. “All right, let’s do this. No flirting, you two.”

Cas didn’t understand what you said was supposed to be a joke, Sam responded by rolling his eyes. You decided to talk to an old woman sitting at a table by herself as the angel tagged along to try and help. The woman you were talking to, Mrs. Tate as she introduced herself, seemed to understand enough that you were an FBI agent here to discuss a few robberies. But she only kept her attention on you for so long before her attention was drawn to the angel sitting across from her. An almost dreamy look was on her face as she sat there with her elbows on the table, her palms cradling her head. You had to admit you found it all a little too amusing, considering Cas had no idea why the woman was staring at him like that. She let out a sigh and grew a smile.

“You are so pretty, Charles.” Mrs. Tate said, her mind mistaking the angel for someone else.

“That’s not my name.” Cas corrected her.

“Oh! You look so much like my third husband.” She admitted, dropping her arms to the table.

“We’re here to talk about the robbery, ma'am.” You reminded the woman of why you were here today. She suddenly seemed worried at the mention of a robbery, you nodded your head. “Mm-hmm. The one the police talked to you about a few days ago. Someone broke into your old house and stole a stack of bearer bonds and some jewelry that you stashed under your floorboards.”

“Oh, my diamonds, yes. I hid them there.” Mrs. Tate agreed, seemed to remember enough with what she with with her possessions before moving into the retirement home. But she still thought Cas as her third husband. “I’m sorry, Charles. I didn’t trust you. You were quite the bounder.”

You snickered quietly to yourself as you grew an amusing smile from what was going on. The angel didn’t think this was as funny as you did. “Did you tell anyone where your valuables were, Mrs. Tate?”

She took a moment to think about it before answering the angel’s question. “I don’t think so. But then I get a little fuzzy sometimes.”

“Have you noticed anything strange lately?” You asked her. “Uh, cold spots, smells?”

“Well, there’s the cat.” Mrs. Tate said, pointing a finger in the direction behind you. You raised your brow in curiosity as you looked over your shoulder to see what she was gesturing to. A ginger cat was sitting on a couch behind you, being stroked by another resident. The feline seemed content for the moment as you heard him purring from where you were sitting. You looked back at Mrs. Tate from what you heard her say next. “He talks sometimes. Really hates that mouse.”

You tapped your fingers against the table from what you heard. It sure fit into the crazy incidents that were going on around town. As you looked over at Cas, decided to take it upon himself to follow the lead. “I’ll interrogate the cat.”

You let out a quiet sigh from what was going on, not only did you have two dead victims that faced a cartoonish ending, you had a talking animal on top of it. Cas proceeded to grill the cat that was more likely to claw its eyes out or just walk away. Hell, maybe you’d get a bit of luck and Tom over there might be able to tell you what was causing him to talk. You looked over at Mrs. Tate and gave her a smile, thanking her for her time before moving on to a few more people to see if they knew anything. While most of them didn’t know anything, there was a few that were too far gone to even help themselves. Seeing someone in a state where they just sat around all day in their own world, probably not even remembering who they were heartbreaking. But it was the cons of growing old.

You always thought your life was going to be cut short when you first started hunting and were nothing more than an idiot running around with a shotgun, or the handful of other times you kicked the bucket. But here you were…alive, and pregnant. You always wondered with each year that passed if you were going to live long enough to see your next birthday. Now you were contemplating if you were going to live long enough to see the birth of your child or for them to take their first step. Even their first day of preschool to the last step they took on the stage of their graduation.

Suddenly you felt a lump in your throat with from the rush of thoughts that felt like they came out of nowhere. You were still just six weeks into your pregnancy, and from what you read online, the first trimester was the most crucial for development. While you desperately wanted to keep hunting and pretending like everything was normal, the fear in the back of your mind about what might happen to the baby distracted you. There was so much going on right now. But you had gotten comforation from Cas that everything was going perfectly fine with the baby. You still worried for the future and what it would bring. You subconsciously pressed a hand against your stomach, pretending to smooth down your blouse and inhaling a deep breath to compose yourself and head over to Sam when you spotted him.

“Hey,” You headed up to the younger man and gave him a small smile, somehow managing to pretend like everything was normal. “Did you guys find anything?”

“Hey, um, nothing. Uh, no hex bags, no EMF.” Sam seemed to have been lost his own personal thoughts before you headed up to him, his brother following behind you. “You guys have any luck?”

“Nope.” You admitted, shaking your head.

“I got a whole bunch of nothing, too.” Dean said. “Half the folks I talked to don’t even remember being robbed.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as Sam directed his attention over to the bulletin board of the residence that were staying here. There were dozens of pictures of old people with their room number handwritten placed around in an orange border to go along with the blue background. Most of the people were nobody he recognized, but Sam found a familiar face in the sea of strangers. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he leaned in closer to inspect the old man sitting in what appeared to be a wheelchair, his gaze off into the distance. Sam looked down at the name, and sure enough, he swore he knew the old man.

“Dean, um…” Sam moved his attention away from the board and to his older brother to share what he had found. “Do you remember a guy named Fred Jones? I think he was a contact of Dad’s, lived outside of Salt Lake.”

“Yeah, that guy gave me my first beer.” Dean said. “I don’t think I was double digits.”

“Right, yeah. Me, too. He was psychic, right?” Sam wondered if he remembered correctly.

“Psychokinetic.” Dean corrected his brother. “Why?”

Sam let out a chuckle as he pointed to the picture on the wall to show you and Dean what he found, “‘Cause he’s in room one fourteen.”

You and the boys knew that it seemed like no coincidence someone like Fred was staying in the exact same retirement home where a string of strange occurrences had been happening. While the three of you were ready to head out to room one fourteen, you were missing someone else. You spotted Cas exactly where you had left him, crouched down on the ground and at eye level with the cat. You let out a sigh from how ridiculous he looked right now. The cat didn’t seem to have said a single word, he was enjoying himself as he kept purring.

“Cas.” Dean whispered to the angel. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve almost cracked him.” Cas said, needing some more alone time with him. Dean ordered for the angel to cut the interrogation short and for to head out with the rest of you, thinking all of you had found a real lead. The angel let out a sigh and turned his attention back to the cat. In a stern voice, he made sure to remind the feline that he was just getting started. “Hey. I’m not through with you.”

Cas finally got to his feet and joined the rest of you when you stopped and spoke his name one more time, waiting for him to finally catch up. When the four of you were finally gone, the cat did exactly what Mrs. Tate claimed. It sure could talk, and he didn’t have very nice words about the angel who tried to interrogate him. “Dumbass.”

After wandering down a few halls, the four of you finally found room one fourteen, and you had a feeling you were in the right one considering you heard the sound of cartoonish noises coming from the hall. You stepped into the room to see there was a TV mounted up on the wall playing some old cartoon that was keeping Fred Jones’ attention. The man was nothing more than a vegetable in a wheelchair from the nonexistent look in his eye. You followed behind the boys as they headed inside first, Sam approached the man, hopeful he might remember an old face.

“Mr. Jones? Hey, it’s, uh, Sam Winchester.” The younger man introduced himself, thinking that might have some of connection for the old man. But Fred kept sitting in his chair without moving a single muscle, his gaze captured by the TV and the cartoon that was playing.

“Fred?” Dean tried himself to get the man’s attention and snap him out of this trance. But Fred didn’t even blink once. Dean turned around to see the TV might have been the problem here. If he turned it off, maybe that might help. The screen went black, but the old man continued to stare off into the distance, almost like he wasn’t aware of his own surroundings. Dean clapped twice, hoping the loud noise would snap the old guy out of it and back to himself. But Fred still was in his own world. “Fred! Hey!”

“So, you really think this one man is causing all of these…shenanigans?” Cas wondered. Fred didn’t seem like he was up for much of anything these days, let alone reshaping reality so it was being ruled by cartoon standards.

“Well, if he is, he’d be surrounded by a circle of crazy, right?” Dean asked. You shrugged your shoulders, not sure if there was a way to test out that theory without all of you either getting hurt or dying. But the older man had an idea when he spotted something. “Hang on.”

Dean spotted a hardcover book just behind him, which gave him the brilliant of how to see if Fred was the one causing all of the crazy around here. He whacked himself straight in the head with the book, hard enough for what sounded like a very strange sound effect to suddenly come out from thin air. It was that very familiar “clang!” noise that you heard a million times when a cartoon character got hit in the head, followed by just a second later of little birdies tweeting.

You furrowed your brow slightly as Dean stared up at the ceiling, his eyes almost seeming to be crossed with a dazed sort of smile on his face, the exact same way a cartoon would react. Dean managed to break himself out of it when he shook his head, the movement causing that oh so familiar sound when he did so. You knew it was just the four of you and Fred, there was no way in hell someone could have made those noises. Your eyes widened slightly as you stared at the old man sitting in front of you. This was…very much a new one for you.

“How the hell is doing that?” You asked out of pure astonishment from what you just witnessed.

“Fred’s got juice. I mean, an average psychokinetic can move things with his mind, but a guy like Fred—you get him worked up, he can reshape reality.” Sam said. You inhaled a deep breath from what you were dealing with here. Fred was very much impressive, but also very dangers.

“All right so where’s his ‘off’ switch?” Dean wondered.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. Fred didn’t seem like he was in the shape to be doing much of anything, let alone running around town and breaking and entering into people’s houses to steal their goods. “I’m not even certain if he knows we’re here.”

“Do we…” Cas trailed off for a second. “Kill him?”

“Excuse me, agents.” You winced slightly when you realized the voice coming from behind you belonged to Dr. Mahoney. You looked over your shoulder to see the man was standing in the doorway, along with an orderly. If all the times for him to be checking up to see how things are going, he sure picked the wrong time. “Did he just threaten to murder one of my patients?”

You weren’t sure if there really was a way to back pedal your way out of this one, even though you tried very much to explain that what Cas had said wasn’t what they thought. Dr. Mahoney heard the angel loud and clear. You were nothing but furious from how things turned out when he kicked you out of the retirement home, that was your first option, the second one was calling the cops and having you escorted out. You gave the angel a dirty glare when you shoved past him as the brothers pushed open the swinging doors, making him last in line.

“Real freaking smooth.” Dean grumbled to the angel.

“Well, we don’t have to leave him.” Cas said, trying to be helpful. “I could teleport him.”

“Fred’s radioactive, Cas. Zap hm—no telling what will happen.” Sam said.

“Sam, Y/N and I will circle back tonight, get Fred nice and clean. You go invisible girl and keep an eye on him. You hear me?” Dean told Cas the new plan of what was gonna go down. The angel seemed to understand, and when you heard the familiar sound of rustling you’ve learned to associate with him disappearing, your theory was proven right when you turned around and Cas was gone. “Good.”

The boys continued walking when Cas was off watching Fred, giving you a small piece of mind that this end was covered. You followed behind the boys once again as you let out an unexpected yawn. Who knew all of this running around and dealing with crazy could be so tiring. Once you got back to the motel and out of these clothes you were taking another nap, that was for sure. You had a feeling the day was just the beginning. And you needed all the energy you could steal from your unborn baby. They were gonna have to learn sooner than later that Mommy needed to save a few lives with their Daddy and Uncle Sam, and you needed some stamina to do so. You suddenly felt a smile creep at the end of your lips when you thought about the future titles that were going to be given to you three.

“What are you smiling about?” Dean’s question suddenly broke you out of your concentration.

You realized that you were doing just that, lost in your own thoughts and smiling without a reason he would understand. You quickly cleared your throat as you composed yourself and came up with a little white lie. “Just thinking about some old cartoon I used to watch as a kid.”

Dean was the type of person who could always see straight through you and figure out what kind of secret you were hiding. But it seemed that your lie flew right over his head. He dropped the conversation as the three of you headed out of the building and back to the Impala. Much as you wanted to tell him what you were thinking about, right now wasn’t the time when all of you were on a hunt. You would find the perfect opportunity…hopefully.

\+ + +

When you got back to the motel you didn’t exactly sneak in that nap you wanted to right away, the need to eat something kicked in. And then there was some sort of strange smell lingering in your room that bothered you. But you did manage to get in at least an hour and a half long nap before you were woken up by Dean, who informed you there was trouble at Sunset Fields. You and the boys headed over, opting out to dress in your fed clothes and stick to the ones you changed into after you returned back to the motel. Cas had been the one who called Dean to tell him something happened, but he didn’t exactly say what. Sam went to go search for Fred while you and Dean went to the day room to see what the problem was that needed your attention.

When you entered the room you had been in just a few hours ago, you were taken back at the sight of it now. It looked like the home was celebrating someone’s birthday, but from the looks if it, thing was dangerous. It looked a bomb went off. The walls and residents were covered in pink frosting and chocolate cake. What remained of the birthday cake laid in shambles on the table. You weren’t sure what happened, but you had a feeling you knew who to blame.

“Oh. You got my message. Good.” Cas said. He approached you and Dean, who were too busy observing the place. You had a lot of questions, but the one that slipped out first was what had happened while the three of you were gone. The angel let out a sigh as he observed the mess for himself. “There was a pastry mishap. And the frosting reached near-supersonic speeds. I thought—”

Before Cas could explain the reason why he contacted the older Winchester, your gaze moved away from the angel and to Sam, who was walking towards the three of you with a not so calm look on face. And for a good reason from the news he was about to deliver. “Hey. Fred’s gone.”

“Oh, fan-freaking-tastic.” Dean grumbled. “Way to take your eye off the ball.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” A young nurse you had seen helping residents came forward to the four of you, warning you about the trespassing that you were doing. You noticed she was wheeling out Mrs. Tate, who had been the special birthday girl. You ignored the nurse’s warning by rolling your eyes and turning your gaze away from her, pretending as if she wasn’t there.

“Well, trust me, sweetheart, you got bigger fish.” Dean said, not in the mood himself.

“Charles,” Mrs. Tate pulled down the oxygen mask she was wearing and addressed the angel as her dead husband. But this time, she had something else important to say. Your attention slowly lingered back to the nurse and the ridiculously expensive looking bracelet on her wrist. No way someone with her salary could afford such a thing. “She’s wearing my bracelet.”

“Wait.” Cas quickly reached out and grabbed the nurse by her wrist. She didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, despite her attempts at trying to get away fast as possible. He lifted up her arm for you and the boys to see the piece of jewelry that didn’t belong to her, a diamond bracelet. “This is Mrs. Tate’s bracelet. Where did you get it?”

When the nurse fell silent, you prompted to play the bad cop here. “Answer the question, lady.”

“My boyfriend gave it to me.” She said, not sure what the problem was. Little did she realize her boyfriend had some grubby fingers on stealing things that weren’t his. He might be the only lead in figuring out where Fred Jones was. And you had a feeling he wasn’t working alone.

\+ + +

The four of you got the address from the nurse to where you could find her boyfriend, who so happened to work here as well, but his shift ended a little after you left. You and the boys came prepared for whatever sort of crazy that might come your way. The apartment complex the couple were living in was dimly lit, making it almost impossible to see where you were going. You held a flashlight in one hand and a loaded gun in the other for safety. Dean picked the lock to the apartment and opened up the door, revealing a dark apartment. The four of you headed inside, making sure to watch your step from all the crap lying on the floor. As the boys searched the place, you and Cas observed the apartment, noticing right away that there was a struggle.

You dropped your gun to your side as you began looking around the place. It took a wander around the place before you found something that didn’t belong to the orderly. You scoffed and lifted up the sheet of paper. “Hey. Bearer bonds.” You told the boys what you found. “Maybe that belonged to Sheila Tate.”

“So this man is our thief.” Cas suspected.

“Yeah.” Sam said, thinking that it was from the looks of it. He looked around the apartment to see if he might spot anything else that the man had stolen. However as he looked towards the kitchen, Sam spotted a pair of feet poking out from a turned over table. He didn’t miss a beat as he pointed his gun directly at the body. “Guys.”

Sam moved forward to inspect the body as his brother followed behind to see who it was. You trailed behind at a safe distance as you pointed your flashlight forward to see what it was. Dean turned on the kitchen lights, revealing the orderly the four of you had been looking for, but in a severe condition you weren’t expecting. He was lying on the floor with his hands on his stomach and covered in what appeared to be blood. Dean moved the table out of the way as the man started coughing, which was never a good sign. You turned your gaze over to Cas, hoping he might be able to work some of his magic.

“Stay still.” Cas ordered at the man. The guy had no idea what was going on, he could only think that all of you were here to hurt him. But it was quite the opposite. You needed him alive long enough to figure out where Fred was, and who was pulling the old man’s strings to do what they wanted. “Mover your hands.”

All it took was a few seconds and some grace before the gunshot wound was healed, as if it never happened. The man was taken back at what just happened. He slowly lifted up his bloody white beater to see that all that remained was his blood, the pain and wound that he had just moments ago was gone. He stared at his stomach in astonishment, wondering how the angel did that. You really didn’t have time to explain the details to him.

“Guy eats his wheaties. Sam, come on. Get up. Come on. Sit down.” Dean ordered at the man to do what he said. The boys dragged him up from the ground and to a chair they found. Both of them managed to get him to sit down, but the man had questions of his own from what was going on as he tried to talk over Dean. The older Winchester made it clear who was in charge here. “Hey, hey, hey! Listen to me. Where is Fred Jones?”

“I—He—He took him.” The man managed to answer Dean’s question, but it was too vague. The older Winchester questioned at who he meant. “Dr. Mahoney. That guy’s evil, man, okay? He’s using Mr. Jones.”

Your eyes narrowed on him, “How?”

“Look, all Fred does is watch cartoons, but he is magic, okay? A few weeks ago I—I slammed my foot in his door. I smashed it flat—and I mean flat. And then when I shook the thing, it popped back up, like something out of a cartoon or whatever.” The man explained what he knew. You rolled your eyes as you mumbled you knew. You waved your arm, making him continue on with his story a little faster. “So I told Dr. Mahoney, and then he started doing experiments. Just—We just wanted to see what he could do.”

“What about the robberies?” Sam questioned the man.

“Oh, Mahoney’s been skimming off Sunset Fields for years.” The man admitted. “A lot of those folks—they got stuff stashed away, like, off the books. So Mahoney would track down the loot, and we would take Fred for a drive.”

“Right, and use his bubble of weird to rip people off.” Dean said. The more you learned from this guy, the more things started to make sense. “How did you end up gut-shot?”

“Mahoney. After he anviled that guard, he started freaking out, and then you showed up, and then the cake blew up in the day room, and then he lost it.” The man said. You had to ask what he meant when he mentioned that Mahoney lost it. That could mean so many things, but it didn’t exactly mean that things were going to end up with a happily ever after. “I mean he’s on his way back to the bank right now for one last score. Doc’s blowing town. I mean, he said that Fred was a loose end. He was gonna kill him. And then I like Fred, so I said that if he hurt the guy, I’d go to the cops. And I didn’t know that he had a gun.”

You and the boys figured out what was going on here, and who was to blame for all the crazy going on. You just needed to get down to the bank before Mahoney could do like he promised. The four of you headed out of the Impala to make it to the bank fast as you could. From what you saw of Fred he seemed to be out of touch with reality. He didn’t respond to the boys when they tried to engage him in communication, he didn’t get angry when Dean turned off the cartoon he was watching. It was almost like he was in a trace, or lost in his own world that was better than coming back down to reality.

“Do you think Mr. Jones knows what’s happening?” Cas asked, posing a good question.

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted. “Seems to me like the dude’s living in a dream world.” 

The thing about being in a dream world was that it might have been a great escape from reality. Whether it be watching cartoons, running away and finding a woman to fall in love with, or just thinking about what the future might bring with a hidden secret. But sooner or later reality was going to come knocking, pulling you back into the problems you still had to face.

\+ + +

The four of you headed back to the bank after you heard the master plan Mahoney had in mind so you could put a stop to his one last hooray and murder an innocent man after spending exploiting for his own benefit. Stealing from the elderly was like taking candy from a baby. These people were nearing the end of their days, some of them were even losing their minds and memories. Mahoney was the person who was supposed to be trusted to take care of them. Now he was just like the rest of the scum you hunted, and his the remaining time he had left on earth was numbered by the minutes he had left for what you had planned for him. 

Dean parked the Impala in the back alley behind the banks, a perfect spot for all of you to sneak around without being caught by any bystanders. You stepped out the back and shut the door behind you, the three men following suit as you started to look around the empty streets tonight to see if you might be able to find a clue where Mahoney and Fred were. You spotted what could only be a huge black hole on the brick wall just down the alley when all of you started walking. You nudged Dean with your arm as you nodded your head to the cartoon hole that was familiar from what you saw a few days ago at the bank after it was robbed and killed the security guard.

“All right. Jones has got to be close. Y/N and I’ll hit the bank.” Dean said, coming up with a plan. He looked over at his brother and the angel. “You see if you can find him.”

You followed behind Dean as he started to approach the ominous looking black hole that was your only way into the bank. Sam made his way down the alley with Cas, but the angel stopped for a moment as you stood next to the black hole with Dean. As you looked over your shoulder, you caught the sight of the worrisome look on Cas’ face from the dangerous situation you were willingly putting yourself in again. You gave him a small, almost reassuring smile that everything was going to be fine. This wasn’t the first life-or-death kind of situation you put yourself in, and it wasn’t going to be the last one. The angel started to walk with Sam again before he could fall behind, leaving you and Dean to attend to Mahoney. You slowly looked back at your unordinary entrance.

Dean decided to be the one who inspected the black hole to see if it was really in proper working order. He slowly lifted up his hand and began to inch it towards the hole, unsure of what was going to happen, or if it was going to work at all. But it did. You felt your mouth slowly fall open when you saw Dean’s fingers disappear into the void, making you realize that you were on the same playing field as Mahoney. Dean quickly pulled back his hand, almost spooked at what he accomplished. But he decided to try again, this time, inserting his arm up into the elbow before stopping, just letting it stay there for a moment. 

“What the…” You whispered to yourself, not sure what you just witnessed was real. You seen a lot of strange things in your life, but you had to admit, this might take the cake. 

You suddenly found yourself overwhelmed with curiosity at what you just witnessed. You had to try it for yourself. You cautiously reached out your arm and inches forward, not sure what you were expecting. But when you felt your hand slip into the darkness and out of sight, you felt yourself let out a quiet gasp of surprise. What you felt on the other side was nothing, maybe a slight breeze, but you guessed it was really inside the bank. You quickly drew back your arm to your side. Slowly you looked over at Dean, the both of you sharing matches smiles. There was almost a childish giddiness about them from what was going on. 

“Awesome.” You and Dean found yourselves repeating after one another. 

The both of you wasted no time in figuring out that this was all being played by cartoon rules now. All the wackiness you had been investigating was all real now for the time being. If you were six years old again you might have thought this was a dream come true, and to be honest, you thought all of what was happening was a little fun. You and Dean could play that game.

Once you knew the black hole was working nice and well, you slipped yourself inside after Dean when he checked it for himself that it wasn’t leading you into Narnia, but the inside of the bank. The both of you drew out your weapons as you heard the sound of shuffling and things being opened to things that didn’t belong to them. Mahoney was busying himself with getting everything that he could get his hands on—money, expensive jewelry, possessions that belonged to the residents at Sunset Fields that he was supposed to have been looking after. The man was so preoccupied with stuffing money into the bag he brought along, he no idea he wasn’t alone anymore.

Mahoney was caught off guard when he heard the clicking sound of the safety going off on your gun you were pointing at him. You gave him a familiar friendly smile as you took your hand off the handle of your gun to give him a wave, Dean right next to you as he continued to keep an eye on the man. It was two against one. And you had a feeling Mahoney’s odds weren’t in his favor. You could tell from the papers that were scattered across the floor and all the tiny black holes spread around the deposit boxes that Mahoney was getting his grubby hands on much as he could. But his fun was about to stop right now.

“What’s up, Doc?” Dean used the famous line you heard a million times before from old Bugs Bunny cartoons, and it only seemed fitting to use it right now. You raised your brow slightly as you continued to stare at Mahoney, wondering what kind of trick he was going to try and pull to get himself out of this one. The man remained silent for a few moments, as if he was thinking of a plan, but he knew with two

“You guys left me walk, half of this is yours.” Mahoney thought briding you and Dean would be the trick to get himself out of here scott free. You pretended to be interested in the offer as you looked over at the older Winchester to see what he wanted to do. Dean leaned over and peeked inside the bag to see it was filled to the brim with cash. It was tempting, but he had a conscious, a barely there one at times, but he was smarter.

Dean clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and turned his attention back to Mahoney to give his answer for the both of you. “I think we’re gonna pass. We’re not really into stealing from sweet old ladies.”

“I’m not stealing from them. I’m stealing from their children.” Mahoney, like any good villain, thought this was the perfect time to tell you and Dean the reason why he was doing all of this. It was all brought on by the selfishness and desire to get what he thought he earned. “Little bastards think they can drop their folks off at a home and visit twice a year, maybe. I took care of all these old geezers. I think I des—”

“I don’t care!” Dean cut off the man before he could finish up his reasoning.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Mahoney pretended to be cooperative with the both of you.

He put his hands up in a defeated motion, deciding to play along with your little game while he planned his next move to be one step ahead of all of you. You narrowed your eyes on the man as you decided to give Mahoney the benefit of the doubt, thinking that he might have changed his mind about all of this. But your lack of judgement was exactly what he was hoping for. Mahoney didn’t waste a second when you lowered your gun away from him just the slightest, giving him a chance to make an escape. You noticed him slowly reaching for something, but it was too late to act on doing something about it from what happened next.

Mahoney grabbed a handful of papers and threw them in your face, catching you off guard just enough to shove you straight into Dean, making the both of you go tumbling to the ground. Lucky for you, Dean was standing behind you, cushioning your fall as he was the one forced to hit the metal wall of deposit box. Mahoney thought he was going to get out of here with his bag full of money. But he had another thing coming. Maybe it was the lack of caffeine or sleep, maybe the disgust for someone who pushed you down while in your condition. But you were suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to shoot the son of a bitch point blank. You quickly drew out your gun as Mahoney ran for the door, and without hesitating, you pulled the trigger.

You expected a long banging noise from what you did, and Mahoney to fall on his face, but that never happened. You had seen guns go off all the time in cartoons, they were more violent than the kids shows they had on these days. But it seemed your life had turned into a big joke. The only thing that came out of your gun was a red flag with the words “BANG” in a cartoon bubble. You furrowed your brow in absolute confusion as you tried again, but nothing worked.

“Welcome to the fun house.” Mahoney taunted you, laughing in amusement.

You threw the useless weapon to the ground and got up to your feet quick as possible. Mahoney might have gotten a head start, but you had somewhat of your youth left. Running after bad guys was what you did for a living, and he should have known the cards were stacked against him. You run fast as you could, managing to catch up to him with little effort as you saw him look over his shoulder to see that you were gaining on him. Before he could do anything stupid, you made your move, jumping on his back to make him fall to the ground.

Dean got himself to his feet seconds after you dashed out of here like a bat out of hell to chase after Mahoney. He was ready to go after the man himself, but he stopped in his tracks at what he saw unfold. It was almost like time had stopped, but only for you and Mahoney. Dean could still move, and witness the next whirlwind of crazy. You were up floating in midair with your hands on Mahoney’s shoulders as he looked like he was ready to tumble.

Then there was a sudden sound of a ringing bell echoed out from thin air. And Dean swore he saw what appeared to be text pop up from nowhere. In all capital letters and white font it read “Y/N Y/L/N” and underneath it said “(Hunteri Heroici)” almost like it was some sort of character introduction on a cartoon. Mahoney got one too after yours disappeared: “Dr. Mahoney (Grotesque Villain” and seconds later vanished as well. and the both of you unfroze, continuing out your actions as if nothing happened just a few seconds before.

In that moment you saw the ground coming into view, and before you could land on your stomach like you feared, you used Mahoney’s body to cushion part of the fall as you rolled just in time to land on your back. You slid across the floor as you managed to compose yourself seconds before Mahoney did. You were still new to all of this cartoon town rules, but Mahoney had lots of practice. You saw him pull out what appeared to be an iron skillet from his jacket. Lucky for you when he tried to swing, you ducked back down to the ground, making him miss you completely, but he had another target.

Dean had come out of nowhere to try and help you up from the ground, but it seemed that he had the worst timing. You got to your feet just in time to watch as the older Winchester get hit right in the face with the frying pan. Not one, not twice, but three times back to back with some cartoonish sound effects. Mahoney went in for another hit. and somehow, the iron made an imprint of Dean’s face, giving you a perfect glimpse of his reaction after being hit for the fourth time. Mahoney had to use force to get the pan off of the man’s face. Dean’s face was all sorts of comical as he heard those cuckoo birds again. You watched as his eyes began shifting slightly in a way a cartoon character would after being dealt with that kind of blow. He wobbled slightly before falling right on his ass.

“Give up?” Mahoney asked you, still holding the frying pan in his hand. He thought he could win this fight because you were without a weapon. Or so he thought. “I’ve been dealing with this crazy for months! And you—idiot—bring a gun to a gag fight.“

“Yeah, well, I did bring this.” You said. You were now holding a can of spray paint to show him as you brought it along to use a trick he did before on the security guard. "And ‘X’ marks the spot.”

Mahoney looked down at the ground to see that he was standing directly on the spot you had painted, the trick that Coyote always fell for. Your smirk only lasted so long before you heard the whistling coming from above you. And before you could get smashed into guts and blood, you dashed out of the way, getting to a safe distance as you shielded yourself from the debris that flew through the air after the anvil hit the floor. You wondered if Mahoney had gotten his just desserts, but it seemed that he had managed to move out of the way just in time.

Dean and Mahoney slowly got to their feet as you waited for the smoke to clear so you could see properly. All though it was still two against one, you weren’t sure if you were living in the reality you were used to or going by cartoon rules. You cautious as Mahoney began to slowly inch towards the bag full of cash. He took his chances as he dashed fast as he could, grabbing the bag and making a run for it again. Dean was about ready to chase after him this time as you followed right behind on the Winchester’s heels. But it seemed Mahoney’s perfect escape that had worked flawlessly came towards a halt.

The black hole was useless and nothing more than just paint, making Mahoney slam into the wall after he felt solid force that made him tumble towards the ground. You found yourself letting out an amused chuckle at the sight of the man and his demise. If that didn’t work, it meant that Sam and Cas had somehow snapped Fred back into reality enough to make things go back to normal. Which meant it was two against one.

“Looks like somebody turned off the boob tube.” Dean said.

“Good.” Mahoney was smarter that you had believed. Your smirk slowly faded when you saw him pull out a gun of his own from the waistband of his pants. You and Dean had left yours back in the vault, making you defenseless when he pointed the gun at the both of you. “Means I can use this.”

“No!” An unfamiliar voice rang out through the bank, making you let out a sigh of relief when you turned your head to see who was speaking. It was Fred Jones himself, along with Sam and Cas, coming to your rescue. “You are never going to hurt anyone again!”

Fred had proven himself that he was powerful from the way that he could reshape reality without even realizing it. But when he could control himself and his actions, he could do that as well to people. Fred pointed a finger at Mahoney, and using his abilities, made the gun that the man that he was pointing at you slowly be turned on himself. You flinched at the sound of a gunshot echoing through the bank, making you realize Fred had force Mahoney to shoot himself. You kept your gaze on the floor, you weren’t particularly in the mood to see blood and brain matter.

“That’s all, folks.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

Now that Mahoney was gone for good and no longer controlling Fred, the older man could finally think for himself and examine what he was able to do without realizing it. He noticed the anvil on the ground and the black hole on the wall. All of this was done by one man. You had to admit you were impressed with what Fred could do. It lead you to wonder what else he might be able to do now that he was no longer being controlled by Mahoney.

“Fred. You good?” Sam asked the older man.

“Now I’m good. In a month, year…nobody gets sharper with age. I’m not gonna lose control again, and somebody’s gonna get hurt…again.” Fred said. Most people his age had to worry about where they put something important, Fred had the burden about not reshaping reality into the cartoon world he had found comfort in for all these years. He let out a deep sigh from the trouble he caused without realizing it. “You got to make it stop.”

“There might be a way.” Cas offered. “The procedure will be painful, and when it’s over, I’m not sure how much of you will be left.”

The option was better than death, but it also meant who he knew himself as would be gone forever. You thought the pause of silence that followed after Cas’ proposal was the older man thinking to himself if he wanted to go through with it. But it was only him waiting for the angel to get started. At the end of it Fred might not have been the man he once was, but that was okay.

\+ + +

The next morning after you wrapped up the hunt and packed up your belongings, you and the boys headed back to Sunset Fields to make sure Fred was okay after his procedure. The older man sat in his wheelchair that he occupied before, and while he stared off into the distance, you swore there was a hint of a smile on his face. He seemed much more content than he had been from the first time you saw him. You felt a smile of your own creep at the ends of your lips.

“Is he okay?” Sam asked the angel, wondering the fate for the man.

“He’s listening to ‘Ode to Joy.’” Cas said. “He’s happy.”

“All right, well, let’s blow this termite terrace.” Dean said, deciding that it felt right to head out now. He looked over at the angel and decided to fulfill a request he had asked for just before the four of you started this trip. You found yourself rolling your eyes from the thought of being stuck with the younger Winchester, all six foot and something of him shoved into the backseat. “Cas, you get to ride shotgun. Y/N’s gonna have to suffer with Sammy. You done good.”

“Thanks, but I can’t come. I, uh…” Cas was turning down the offer to continue on hunting with you and the boys, but he slowly trailed off. You furrowed your brow slightly when he fell silent for a few seconds. It almost looked like he was off in another world. You spoke his name in a concerned voice, wondering what was going on. But just a second later, he snapped back into reality, continuing on talking as if nothing happened. “I want to stay with Mr. Jones. Someone should watch over him for a few days just to be safe.”

“Okay,” You said. “And then what?”

“Then I’m not sure.” Cas answered. Your expression slowly dropped into disappointment when you realized that Cas wasn’t going to be coming along like you had hoped. You just got him back after spending so long away from each other. But his reasoning was a good one, you had to admit that much. “But I know I can’t run anymore.”

You let out a quiet sigh from the words you felt were suddenly coming back to bite you in the butt. You wanted nothing more than to have Cas back for a little longer, but you knew he was right about not being able to run anymore. He needed to do whatever what was needed to heal from the mistake he made. Dean decided was a bit bummed himself that the angel wasn’t tagging along, but he shrugged, slapping his brother on the back and heading out himself. You lingered behind as you gave Cas a parting smile, wanting to say your goodbyes in privacy.

“Keep yourself out of trouble, Cas.” You said, pointing a finger at him.

“Make sure to stay away from caffeine and alcohol. And make sure to get plenty of rest.” Cas warned you about the things you already knew, but you had a feeling it was to be on the safe side. You nodded your head as you promised that you would be on the safe side. Right as you were about to head out to meet the boys, Cas called out your name, stopping you. "When are you going to tell the news to the Winchesters, Y/N?”

You felt your jaw tighten at the question. "Soon. I promise.”

Cas nodded his head at your answer, the both of you knowing that all though you were just a little over a month along, you did still have time to break the news. You finally parted ways with the angel, leaving him to watch over Fred, the both of them enjoying the classical music of Beethoven. You began making your way out of the retirement home and to the Impala where the boys were waiting for you while you said your personal goodbyes to Cas. Neither of them realized what you were really talking about. And you hoped that it’d stay that way for just a little while longer.

You knew that you needed to tell Dean that he was going to be a father. It was his reaction that was making you hesitant. Dean could be unpredictable at times. He was still a little shaky from purgatory, he wanted to cut all ties from living a normal life. Having a baby was a big normalcy he thought he was never going to have. You had this fear in the back of your mind of him leaving you, too afraid and consumed with the paranoia of putting you and your unborn child in danger after what happened to Lisa and Ben. And then you wondered how much fighting would be caused between the both of you when he realized you weren’t going to change your life right away because you were expecting a baby.

There was so many “What Ifs” running through your mind about what could go wrong, you almost forgot about the good that was going to come from this. You knew one thing for sure; you needed to tell one of the boys that your family was going to be growing in the next several months before you went crazy. And you would, just not the person you expected it to be. And not for the reason you thought it would be to make him stay with you.


	8. Citizen Fang.

“Sure you don’t want anything?”

Your stomach churned at the thought of having a burger or anything covered in grease from the food stop for that matter that Dean insisted on that was twenty minutes farther from where you complained you needed to pee. It was one of the many symptoms that you were adapting to with the best of your ability for the first trimester. Your boobs were either itchy or hurt, and you swore they were starting to get bigger from how strangely tight your bras were fitting you. You knew that was one of the upsides of pregnancies. But you knew it’d be a matter of time until you had to explain to Dean why they were way bigger than he remembered.

Your boobs might have gotten bigger, but it seemed your bladder had shrunk from how much you had to pee all the time. And if you weren’t in the bathroom peeing you were throwing up first thing in the morning. You were nauseous at the smell of anything you used to enjoy, yet you were hungry, too. But the worst of it all was the mood swings that came and go along with the tiredness you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried and the hours of sleep you got. It was a deadly combination that was going to end with you doing something you regretted and the whole truth spilling out sooner than you wanted.

You were used to getting no more than five hours a night. You given up your abilities to sleep in the morning when you became a hunter You managed to battle the exhaustion with drinking an unhealthy amount of coffee to get you through the day. But you were reduced to one cup a day. Nothing more. And the mood swings were triggered by almost anything. Dean saying something stupid, Sam chewing a little too loudly when he ate. Your bottom lip bled a few times and you swore you made nail marks into the leather of Baby’s seats.

But all of your symptoms, much as they were hard to get accustomed to, were signs that things were going well. And in three weeks when the second trimester came along you should go back to your somewhat normal self. When you were feeling more back to normal, there was a long list of things waiting for your attention. You began making a mental list of things you needed to try and accomplish in the next seven and a half months ahead of you. Find a doctor and make your first appointment for an ultrasound, make yet another list of supplies you were going to need, figure out if you were going to bottle or breastfeed the baby. Try not to panic when you realize that you had no idea how to raise a child. Tell Dean he was going to be a father…

The biggest stress lingering in the back of your mind was where the hell you were going to raise this child. Life as a hunter meant you didn’t have a chance to settle down your roots. Your home was motel rooms and occasionally Bobby’s house before it burnt down to the ground while you were gone. And then, before you got yourself worked into a frenzy, a light bulb went off in your head. You had a house. You had a life before hunting that you almost nearly erased from your memory. You hadn’t been there in God knows how many years. If you ever did step back into the place it was probably covered in a good layer of dust. But that place was where you grew up from the age of four until twenty four when you decided that you wanted to join the fun.

You had plenty of room to transform it into a place where you could raise a new family. Your old bedroom had turned into an office, but you could surely change it up into a nursery. The guest room could be Sam’s very own room if he decided that he wanted to stay for good. It even for him to crash at if he wanted to spend a few days to visit. The boys knew that your home was very much theirs as well. But this time it could have a Winchester touch. Because in the next several months there was going to be another part of them in this world. And the idea of the three of you living together and raising this child didn’t seem so bad. It even made reality a little less scary.

“Hey,” Dean broke your concentration away from the approaching Impala when you ignored his question. You hummed your response as you looked back over at him with a raised brow and the ends of your lips curled into a small smile. “What are you so happy about?”

You shoved your hands inside your jacket pockets as you contemplated for a moment about telling him about the small fantasy in your head. But you chickened out, opting to shrug your shoulders and let your smile grow. “Can’t a girl be happy?”

Dean made a remark underneath his breath about how lately it seemed impossible from your fowl mood that lingered like a black cloud over your head since Cas parted ways with you. You rolled your eyes and got into the backseat as Dean slipped himself behind the wheel of the Impala. He got himself comfortable and was all set on eating the delicious and still warm burger. But before he could even put his hands on the food, his brother sat next to him, wrapping up a phone call that sounded a little bit suspicious. You leaned slightly forward in your seat as you whispered to the younger Winchester who he was talking to. He answered by shoving his finger in your face, you refrained from breaking it from the rude gesture.

“No, listen to me. I said hang tight.” Sam ordered to whoever he was talking to before hanging up. You sat back down in your seat as you looked at the man with a curious expression from what was going on. “We got to get.”

“Can I at least finish my burger first?” Dean asked, a little peeved at the idea of heading back on the road after all of you agreed for a little break. Sam thought there was more pressing matters.

“We got a vamp kill, Dean—Carencro, Louisiana.” His little brother said. His expression shifted into a more serious one as he stared at the man sitting across from him, as if the location was supposed to bring up some speculation or even worry. You felt a sigh building in your throat when you realized what it might be, Dean didn’t put much effort into the location or the monster.

“Huh. It’s been a while since I’ve had some étouffée.” Dean mumbled, a slight smile spreading across his lips when he thought about the southern dish. “Who’s the source?”

“Martin Creaser.” Sam answered.

Your brow furrowed slightly, “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

“Sorry—for a minute there, I thought you said Martin Creaser.” Dean said. He didn’t bother trying to give you a hint of who you met the other hunt. And neither did Sam when he continued to stare at his brother with the type of look that was dead serious. You looked at the two brothers slowly, wondering what the hell had gotten into them. “Crazy Martin from the loony bin?”

“That’s who!” You snapped your fingers when you suddenly remembered who the man they were talking about was. Neither one of them seemed the least bit amused as you were when that stroke of relief fell over you when you figured out what you were missing. You knew who Martin was, a man who was driven insane from all the things he seen on the job. “Why was he calling you about a case? Last time we saw him he couldn’t even take down that wraith without spazzing out.”

“Glendale Springs discharged him last month.” Sam said to you, not even bothering to you in your direction. You wondered what crawled up his ass while you and Dean were gone to get food. Or what Martin had said to him while on the phone.

“And?” Dean asked his little brother, seeming just as confused as you were about a man who was one jump scare away from having a mental breakdown. “Shouldn’t he be assembling toys in a padded room? What’s he doing back on the job?”

“I asked him.”

“What?”

“Sammy,” You spoke up as you raised your hand slightly at Dean to keep the man from saying something stupid. You gave the younger Winchester a serious and concerned expression for the mental state of Martin. You might have only met him once, but he was nervous wreck. “Do you honestly think that’s a good idea? The guy was like a nervous chihuahua seconds away from peeing on the floor if you looked at him the wrong way.”

“Look, he called me when he got out, okay, asked if I had anything for him that might help him ease back into the game. He seemed okay—mostly—so I said yes.” Sam explained his reasoning. He was trying to be a good friend to the man who had saved his father’s life a few times back in the day. But there was another reason. And that sigh you felt building in your throat was finally released when Sam admitted his real reason. “I’ve had him tracking Benny for the past week.”

A moment of silence fell between both of the brothers when Dean heard his little brother did such a thing behind his back. You clenched your jaw as you rolled your eyes in frustration when you realized the boys were going to have this argument again. The one where Dean trusted a demon and Sam abandoned his brother last year for Amelia. It was wishful thinking that these past few weeks felt like a change that you desperately wanted. You should’ve known it was a matter of time until the problem surfaced and came back with a vengeance.

“You put ‘mostly okay’ Martin on Benny?” Dean questioned his brother. You weren’t sure if he was pissed off at the fact his brother went behind his back to keep tabs on the vampire, or he had put a barely there man back in the place where it started all of his mental problems. “What is ‘mostly okay’ doing hunting at all?”

“Not hunting, Dean—tracking.” Sam corrected the man. “Observe and report only. I was crystal clear about that.”

“Wow.” Dean said. He looked straight ahead as he let out a scoff in disbelief from the lack of trust he was feeling. It seemed the shoe was on the other foot for him, and it didn’t feel so nice when he was the brother who had a friend the other couldn’t trust. “I can’t believe that.”

“Really, Dean? You don’t believe that? Because Benny’s a vampire. And any hunter worth his salt isn’t gonna let one just walk around freely.” Sam said. You knew it was also a jab at you. Because you wouldn’t protest your distrust for the vampire. The person who was the reason why Dean got out of purgatory. You remained silent in this argument. “So I had Martin keep tabs on him. And right now, it’s looking like I made the right call.”

“So Martin’s saying Benny did this?” Dean asked for clarification. Sam nodded his head. The older Winchester might have still been a little crazy from purgatory, but he knew better than to fully trust someone who had to drink human blood in order to survive. Dean’s reaction took the younger man and yourself by surprise when he willingly listened to the speculation. “Okay. If Benny’s in Louisiana draining folks…we should look into it.“

And that was the end of the argument. You were honestly a bit surprised yourself to see Dean was agreeing with his brother about looking into this. All though you had only met the vampire once, he seemed like Benny was doing everything in his power to keep himself on the straight and narrow. But you only met him once, and Dean spent an entire year with the vampire to see the most brutal side of him in order to survive. However purgatory was a place where a monster didn’t have to worry about small things like hunger and blood lust.

The real world could be more a brutal place compared to the afterlife. Worse than the tortures in hell. And bloodier than a year in purgatory. Maybe that’s when the real monster inside people and creatures comes out.

\+ + +

It took a half day’s drive to head to Louisiana and find the motel Martin had been staying at for the past week or so while he trailed behind Benny the vampire. You were apprehensive about looking further into this whole Benny situation. Not because of what might come for the vampire and his future, but how much of a strain this was going be put on the brothers. Sam’s lack of action last year and Dean’s poor choice in friends was what caused the arguments in the first place. You were always stuck in the middle of who to side with. While you would feel like a hypocrite to think what Sam did was wrong, you wanted to give Benny the benefit of the doubt. But if he was back up to his old habits you wouldn’t hesitate to behead him and spend the monster back where he belonged.

You and the boys headed into the motel and to the floor where Martin was staying in. You had to admit this place wasn’t what you’d call a southern charm. You looked around the hall when you heard the distant sounds of a baby crying, probably from a motel room that was down the hall. It only lasted for a few seconds before it stopped. You turned your gaze back down to the last door on the right as you approached it, following right behind the boys. Sam raised his hand to knock, but as if Martin was looking out the peephole watching to see who was coming, the door swung right open, taking you slightly by surprise.

“You said ‘look for an eruption.’ How’s Mount Vesuvius?” Martin didn’t exactly get a fair chance at first impressions from the time you met him in the mental hospital. However he wasn’t doing himself any favors from the way he was acting after seeing him again after the few years that passed. You greeted the man with a slight smile as you stepped inside to the motel room. Martin peered out into the hall to make sure that it was empty and shut the door behind him. “I got into town about a week ago. Up until last night, nothing. He’s been clean.”

“Doing what?” Dean asked the hunter for specifics.

“Just minding his own business.” Martin answered. You crossed your arms over your chest as Sam walked across the room and took a seat down on the radiator. While you listened to what he gathered after spending a few days in town, you leaned over slightly to the wall to see that Martin had been keeping himself busy with research as well. All sorts of news report clippings and autopsy photos of the victims that lead you into town were pinned up. “Working at the gumbo shack.” 

“Benny’s working at the gumbo shack?” You had repeat what you heard Martin say, not sure if it was all appropriate to chuckle at the thought of a vampire waiting tables and cooking up a southern dish for customers. But it seemed the vampire was doing everything to make himself appear to be human, even working a job for money.

“Yeah. Slinging hash, pouring coffee—the whole bit. And he may be Benny to

. Folks around here call him Roy.” Martin said, acting as if that piece of information was a game changer. You raised your brow slightly as you pretended to be interested in the name change. If that was the best that he had to go on, the man wasn’t the hunter he used to be.

“Martin, you sure you’re running on a full charge?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask the man a more personal question. He wondered if he could even take the judgement from a man who had spent the past few years in a psych ward only to be released last month very seriously.

“Y-Yeah. L-Little s-shock therapy in the morning, and I-I’m good to go.” Martin reassured the older Winchester as he smiled and snapped his fingers. You nodded your head slowly, but his twitchiness and stuttering of his words told you a different story.

“Tell us what happened last night.” Sam said, deciding to get straight to the reason why all of you were here in the first place.

“So, I followed him home, just like every night. He turned up a path. I hear a scream. I catch up. Boom—there he is.” Martin said, telling the events from last night. “The old coot that Roy was eyeballing at the joint—vamped.” 

You took up cases and hunts with little to almost no evidences, even sometimes from someone thinking that it was a monster. But you didn’t go after somebody until you had concrete evidence they were the source of the problem. And it seemed Martin had forgotten that since being out of the game for so long.

“Wait—did you actually see Benny kill the guy or not?” You found yourself asking the hunter, questioning his judgement on the situation.

“I saw enough.” Martin said.

“Well, then, how can you be sure it was Benny if you didn’t actually see him do it?” Dean asked him, still entertaining the idea that the vampire he spent an entire year with was innocent.

“B-B-Because I saw Benny turn up the path, and then two seconds later, I trip over a body with its throat ripped.” Martin defended himself from the older Winchester’s questions and his doubts on what he witnessed last night. But even you had to admit Martin was selling his story a little short from the lack of proof he witnessed. “Look, you ever hear of Occam’s Razor? ‘Keep it simple, stupid’? It’s not that complicated.”

“There’s a lot of holes in your story, Martin.” Dean said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Holes?!” Martin repeated after the man, seeming rather taken back at your lack of trust being given from Dean. “The only holes we should be looking at are in the vic’s neck.”

“This sound like the Benny you know?” Dean asked you and his brother when he looked in your direction for your opinion on the matter. You shrugged your shoulders from the lack of any real judgement and personal experience of Benny as a vampire. You only met Benny once before, and while you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he turned himself around when he was topside, you still had your speculation on what was going on here.

“I don’t know Benny.” Sam said, sticking with his opinion on the matter.

“The Benny you know? Say what?” Martin asked, disbelief in his voice from what was going on here. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one who went a little crazy because of the job. “Why am I getting the distinct impression your brother is vouching for a vampire?”

“Guys, please.” You spoke up before either one of them could make this conversation more loud and annoying than it needed to be. “Let’s not argue.”

“Nobody’s arguing, but if this is Benny—and that’s a big 'if'—” Dean said. Martin wasted no time in cutting in, defending his judgement that was up for question saying that it was in fact Benny to blame for the victim’s death. You rolled your eyes. “I got history with the guy, okay? I’m not signing up for a witch hunt. I owe him more than that.”

Martin fell silent for a moment as he stared at the older Winchester with almost shock at what he was hearing. Hunters were supposed to kill monsters like Benny, not become besties with them and keep their end of a bargain. "What in God’s great creation could owe a Winchester possibly owe a vampire? Am I hearing this right?”

“Okay. Look, until we get this story straight, we stow the blood lust and we work this case right like we always do.” You said, wanting to be the voice of reason here before things went sour like you were starting to fear. “Or, I suggest if we can’t see eye to eye, we work it separately.”

“Doing right would be separating his head from his shoulders.” Martin quipped in, you turned your head and gave the hunter a warning glare to keep his opinions to himself if he knew what was good for him.

“I just need some time, Sammy.” Dean said as he pushed himself back up to his feet.

“Oh, yeah. Let the fang take another life? I don’t think so.” Martin went at it again, putting his personal thoughts of how he wanted to handle the situation into the conversation.

“How much time do you need?” Sam wondered, deciding to give Benny the benefit of the doubt.

“You’re not actually considering this?” Martin asked the younger Winchester, Dean replied that he merely need a couple hours to himself. “And what if it turns out to be Benny?”

“Then it’s Benny, and I’ll deal with it!” Dean snapped at the older hunter.

“Couple of hours, Dean.” Sam agreed. “No more.”

“I’ll come with.” You said, looking over at Dean. “Two heads are better.”

Dean agreed with the plan and started walking to the door, you followed behind his trail as he slipped out of the hall. You were only one foot out the door when Sam called out your name, asking for you to hang back. Sam turned his attention to Martin. “Why don’t you take a walk around the block, Martin? I need five minutes alone with Y/N.”

You could tell Martin wasn’t exactly happy with the idea of being kicked out of his motel room for a private conversation. But he presumed it was Sam’s chance at talking some sense into you and joining the cause to take down Benny. If only the hunter knew it was going to be far from it. You watched as Martin did what he was told, he grabbed his coat and headed out of the motel. You looked over at the younger Winchester with an arched brow in curiosity, wondering what this was all about. Sam pushed himself up to his feet and let out a sigh, suddenly appearing like he’d been desperately wanting to talk about something. But nothing came out just yet. He wiped his hand with his mouth and looked at you straight in the eye.

“I think you should hang back on this one, Y/N.” Sam said. Your first response was exactly what he thought it was going to be. You stared at the younger man with a confused and the slightest bit angered expression from what he was suggesting. He let out a sigh, deciding it was best to put his fears out there for you to hear and give him a peace of mind. “There’s something that’s been bothering me for a while now since we found Kevin. And I can’t keep it in anymore. Not if you’re gonna be around Benny.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked him, wondering what all of this was about.

“Y/N, you’d tell us if there was any…you know,” Sam trailed off for a moment as he tried his hardest to approach this conversation with a light touch without coming straight forward with the truth. “New changes in your life?”

“What kind of changes?” You asked him, trying your hardest to play dumb here. “And what does that have to do with going after Benny?”

“Come on. Don’t do this. Don’t act like I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been acting lately.” Sam said. The way he was looking at you, with that stupid pleading expression, made your heart drop in your stomach in complete fear. But you didn’t let it show. “You’re always tired, but you never drink coffee anymore. You have to pee more than normal. The mood swings and the better sense of smell. And not to mention getting sick lately.”

“So? I decided to give up coffee. Caffeine isn’t good.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. You were doing everything in your power not to crack and tell him the truth. Right now wasn’t the time to admit what you had been keeping from him and his brother. “And my body’s been a little, different, yeah. But it’s nothing to be worried ab—”

“Y/N, all of these are symptoms of pregnancy.” Sam cut you off, giving you the speculation that had been bothering him for the past week and a half now. Your expression faltered ever so slightly at the word you had only repeated to Cas. You pretended to look at him with shock at what he mentioned, as if this was the first time you were hearing this. “And if you are…”

"I’m not.” You said, suddenly coming to the defense against the allegation. “And if I was, I would tell you. Especially Dean.”

Sam let out a sigh as he continued to stare at you with that damn look that was suddenly making you enraged with anger. “Y/N, please. Don’t lie to me. This is serious.”

“And I’m being serious, Sam. This is a huge allegation you’re throwing at me. Dean and I always take the right steps to make sure stuff like this doesn’t happen.” You said, lying straight through your teeth to the younger Winchester. You knew damn well the night you got pregnant you and Dean threw all of your knowledge on sex ed straight out the window for a bit of fun. And in that moment, while you were discussing the future and your state of being right now, you suddenly felt consumed with anger. A reality you had been trying to ignore since he told you and Dean was reminded again. “And what if I was? What would you possibly do to help me? ‘Cause far as I’m concerned, your foot is already out the door about leaving.”

It was Sam’s turn to look at you with a baffled expression from your sudden hostility towards him and what he wanted to do. Never once had you been vocal an opinion that was against him like his brother had. "I’m still here, Y/N. I have been since day one you and Dean got back.”

“Yeah. But how long are you gonna stick around after we close the gates of hell?” You asked him. “You made it quite clear you’re on your way out of this once we wrap that up.”

“And you made it pretty clear you had my back.” Sam argued back at you. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing. And I still do. I always will. But don’t act like you’re concerned about my future when you know damn well you’re not gonna be in it.” You said. You let out a sigh as you shook your head from the way this conversation was leading to a more bitter touch you didn’t want it to get to. “I need to learn how to stop needing you. Because soon enough you’re not gonna be here. And if that’s what you want…fine. Be with Amelia. I’m sure she needs you much as you need her. Just don’t act like you know better than me about this whole Benny situation. Give him the benefit of the doubt. And if he’s a problem…I’ll deal with it. Okay?”

You didn’t give Sam a chance to answer your question. You turned around and made your way to the door, needing to get out of here and put your mind towards something else before you did something you would regret. But you only made it a few doors down the hall before you felt a sudden wave of nauseousness hit you like a ton of bricks. You forced yourself to stop and lean against the wall to take a deep breath and compose yourself before you went any farther.

You weren’t sure if it was caused by the reality crashing in on you, or the secret you were carrying in your womb. Whatever it was, you knew that you couldn’t do this much longer. Sam was starting to suspect, and soon enough, Dean would getting his own hints from the way you were acting and the body parts that were going to start growing. You had a feeling your perfect little fantasy was going to be anything but just that, something to daydream about to make yourself feel better from the harsh reality you were trying to ignore for something better that might never come.

\+ + +

You and Dean headed to the restaurant where Benny had been working at since rolling into town with a new name. You weren’t going to say that Benny was a friend, but you didn’t want to call him the enemy just yet like Martin was. You wanted to get more evidence, or, at least get him with blood on his mouth and a dead body at his feet that proved he was back to his old ways than going on a hunter’s word alone. The Gumbo Shack was rather busy for this late in the afternoon, but there was two stools conveniently free at the counter where you and Dean took for yourselves. You waited only a few seconds before a young woman slid over two laminated menus for the both for you to look over.

“Actually, we already know what we want.” Dean said.

The waitress let out a sigh and approached the counter, “Let me guess—gumbo?”

“Was gonna be the gumbo until,” Dean always had a special spot for dessert. And you had to shake your head and smile when he clicked his tongue and pointed directly to the one on display that was calling his name from the moment he stepped in the place. “Pie.”

“Well, the special’s pecan.” She said.

“Of course it is. What do you think, sweetheart?” Dean asked you. You shrugged your shoulders and agreed to the dessert, your body seeming to be okay with the idea of having something sweet. You knew that if this baby was going to get anything from Dean it was going to be his ever loving and almost borderline obsession with the dessert. “Let’s do that.”

The waitress nodded her head and headed out to the kitchen to see if she could round up two plates of pie. You took a chance to look around the restaurant to see if you might find any sort of trace of Benny’s whereabouts in this place. A photograph pinned behind the counter was of a familiar face saw you once before, and the waitress who was helping you. You lightly elbowed Dean and nodded your head to the picture you found. A few moments later, the waitress came back, an apologetic smile on her face from the bad news she was about to deliver. 

“You’re out of pecan. Story of my life. Uh, that’s all right. Maybe you can make it up to me.” Dean said, deciding to take the opportunity and mention the reason why the both of you were here in the first. “We’re actually looking for an old friend of ours. I heard he’s kicking around these parts. His name’s Roy.”

“Well, Roy works the night shift here.” She said, leaning a hand against the counter top. “I mean, if we’re talking about the same Roy.”

“Uh, yeah, he putts around in a beat-up camper.” Dean said. He gave the woman a description of the car he’d been driving around since coming back out of purgatory. “Thing looks like a rolling deathtrap.”

The waitress smiled as she chuckled to herself. “Yeah, I thought I was the only one who gave him trouble over that piece of junk.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where’s been parking that thing these days, would you?” You curiously asked the woman with a smile of your own as you placed your folded hands on the counter top.

“Well, he was parking it out back,” She answered you, walking back over to the coffee maker to put the pot back so she wasn’t holding it anymore. “but just called to tell me he’s gone up the road to Mill Creek for a few days.”

“Did he say why?” You asked, pressing for more information in a friendly voice.

“Oh…fishing, I think.” She presumed. Your smile faltered slightly as you looked over at the older Winchester sitting next to you. You didn’t like what you were hearing, vampires didn’t go fishing to relax. “He really deserves a break. He’s been working doubles for the last two weeks straight.”

“Um, listen, I’ll tell you what. If he pops up before we can find him, you do me a favor and just have him give me a buzz.” Dean said. He found a napkin and began scribbling down his name and number for her to have, and even decided to write down your own for the hell of it. He slid it over and gave her a smile.

“Sure thing…Dean.“ She said, examining the napkin for a moment as she tried to match up the names to the face. "And you must be Y/N.”

“I am.” You said, giving her a smile as you pushed yourself up to your feet. “And I’d hate to leave without getting your name. You’ve been a big help…”

“Elizabeth.” She answered with her own, you smiled in appreciation.

Dean mentioned something about taking a rain check on the pie, Elizabeth smiled slightly and nodded he head in agreement. You had a feeling you weren’t the only one becoming unsettled with how things were turning out for Benny/Roy. You headed out of the restaurant and dropped your happy face, a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach began to form. Maybe Sam was right about this. A rouge vampire wasn’t exactly in the cards for someone in your condition. All though you survived a face to face with the king of hell and someone who could reshape reality, all of it was a gamble for your life and the one growing inside of you.

But you, being the stubborn bitch that you were, knew that it was going to take a lot more than to bench you from hunting. You were still so early into your pregnancy a simple matter could make you…you didn’t want to say it. It was a word that haunted you, for some reason. Because it was something every woman pregnant feared. And it was also the reason why your mother was driven to what she did after losing so many of her own just to have you.

Dean decided to call Benny himself to see if he might be able to contact the man and figure out what the hell was going on here. Of course, the call went straight to voicemail. “Benny, I got a body here in Carencro with two holes in it, and I just found out you went fishing. Do I need to tell you what this looks like?”

You let out a quiet sigh in part frustration, and the slightest part fear about how things were turning out. You wanted to give Benny the benefit of the doubt that his hands were clean. But it was starting to get harder from how more this situation played out.

\+ + +

Mill Creek was quite a ways from town that might have made the perfect vacation getaway if someone wanted to get away from town. And it was an enormous amount of land for two hunters to search through for a vampire that may or may not be back to his old habits. You decided to split up with Dean to cover more ground and see you might be able to find Benny and figure out what was really going on here. Dean went one way, you took the opposite with a newly sharpened machete and a pocketful of syringes full of dead man’s blood as your first attempt of defense if anything went wrong.

You wanted to give Benny the benefit of the doubt and hear his side of the story. It was a lot more than what Sam and Martin would offer the vampire, they were already set on the idea that he was guilty from a hunter who barely there. But you wouldn’t hesitate in putting this argument that had been going on between both of the brothers for weeks to bed if the vampire ever so snarled at you. You had more to worry about than a year long friendship Dean made with a monster in purgatory and Sam’s suspicious if Benny was a good guy or not.

Vampires had an advantage over humans that made it a bit more trickier when it came to hunting for them. They had a strong sense of smell and their higher tune of hearing made it near impossible to sneak up on them. You made a safe presumption that Benny could smell and hear your footsteps in the forest from the mile and a half you walked looking for him. You had only met him once, but you had a feeling he got an idea of what you might smell like. You found his beat up truck in the opening of some trees and began to make your way forward quiet as possible, as Benny was distracted washing the blood from his hands after burying a body in the ground. His back was turned to you, but you didn’t put your guard down just yet.

“It’s not me, Dean.” Benny spoke up, seeming to think you weren’t alone.

“Guess again.” You said. Your voice made him turn around to see that it was you, the woman he had only met once. While you and him had left on good terms, the serious expression on your face showed you weren’t here to have a friendly conversation and see how he was. You stood with your hands behind your back, hiding your machete from the vampire. “Hell of a way to meet again after so long. Now, which ‘me’ are we talking about—Benny…or Roy?”

“It’s not what it looks like, Y/N.” Benny said. He let out a sigh from how all of this looked for a hunter like yourself. You raised your brow slightly, almost tempted to ask him what it was. He grabbed a towel and began to wipe his hands clean from the dirt and blood that caked his skin after spending all night digging a grave. “I’m just trying to blend in.”

“'Blend in’? Well, I know there’s a sizable age difference between us, but I would like to consider the definition of 'blending in’ remained the same after all of this time.” You sarcastically implied. Your humor didn’t seem to go well over with the vampire from the blank expression that remained on his face, he moved his gaze away from you and continued to wipe his hands clean. “Who’d you plant, Benny?”

“Victim number two.” Benny answered. “If you and Dean are concerned about the missed calls, I didn’t want to get him involved.”

“Well, then you don’t know him very well. That man can smell trouble from anywhere and he’ll always come running to the rescue.” You said. The grip around the machete handle tighten as the slightly unsettling thought that you were still a mile or so away from the older Winchester. But you were going to do anything drastic just yet. Unlike Martin and Sam, you wanted to give Benny a chance to explain himself. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“I gladly will.” Benny agreed. But it seemed he was feeling apprehensive himself as he reached for his own machete that was currently being occupied in a tree stump. His fingers slid over the handle, as if it was out of his own precaution. “Want to safety that thing, talk a little bit or what?”

You pulled out the machete from behind your back to show the vampire, keeping it close to your stomach, as if you were warning him and protecting the very thing you had lied straight through your teeth about to Sam. But unlike the younger Winchester, Benny could hear heartbeats. “I’m all ears.”

Benny slipped his hand off the machete and back to his side, understanding your precaution. He let out a sigh and decided to tell you the reason for all of this. "Rogue vamp. Came into the café a couple nights ago. Youngster goes by the name of Desmond. He remembers me from the good old days.”

You raised your brow slightly in curiosity from what he meant by that. “The good old days?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I haven’t always been this cute and cuddly.” Benny replied. You fell silent for a moment as you looked away from the vampire, knowing well enough the vampire was admitting his past was full of things he regretted. You heard a few of his stories from back in the day. But you had a feeling his life as a vampire was even worse. “He’s chasing a memory, Y/N. That’s all. He’s crewing up a new nest. He’s hoping I can give him some cred. I told him no.”

“All right. So far, so good.” You mumbled, reaching a hand into your back pocket for something. Benny seemed a bit apprehensive, but it was your phone you pulled out. “I’ll call Dean to let him know where we are. But before I do, let’s get to the part about the blood.”

Benny looked down at his hands to see if there was any traces left of the substance on his skin he tried washing away. He let out a sigh and began taking a few steps to his trunk. “Didn’t want to take no for an answer. He’s trying to roust me out, leaving dead bodies in my wake till I sign up. Two bodies in two days. No amateur is gonna kick me out of my hometown, Y/N. Not this time.”

“‘Hometown?’ You grew up here?” You asked him, finding the truth a little surprising. “I could tell by the southern charm and accent you grew around these parts. But here?”

“Born and bred.” Benny said, nodding his head. It seemed he wanted to go back to his old roots when he was a human to try and remind him of the good, old days. “With Andrea gone and Dean hunting again with you, seemed like the right time for a homecoming—those two seemed like the only ones you kept all my ducks in a row. Went back to my old job at the café. I even found someone to hold myself accountable to. Best kind of someone, Y/N. Family.”

It took you a moment to realize who he was talking about, and then it dawned on you. Benny had grown up in these parts and settled down with Andrea, they had a life here before he was turned into a vampire. “Elizabeth.” You mumbled the waitress’ name you had spoken to, the one you remembered had taken a picture with the man she thought of as Roy. Who seemed a bit worried when you and Dean started asking questions about his whereabouts. You looked over at the vampire and raised your brow slightly. “You know her? How?”

“She’s my great-granddaughter.” Benny said. You could see the smallest smile spread across his lips when he thought about his generation and how she turned out.

“Oh. Well, didn’t see that one coming.” You found yourself mumbling your response again when you found out that Benny and Elizabeth were related. It was a twist you would have never expected. But it made sense. “Family is important, I’ll give you that. Dean and his brother are the only ones I have left.”

“For now.” Benny’s reply didn’t hit you what he was trying to say until a few seconds later. The thing about vampires was that they could hear and smell better than anyone else, even a small heartbeat pounding away in your stomach. You face dropped slightly as you moved your gaze away from Benny, you didn’t want to have this conversation. You just got done denying it to Sam. You really didn’t want to go about this again. But you had a feeling there was no way you could lie to someone like him.

“Let me guess,” You slowly looked over at the man as you brought up the news everyone seemed to get to know except for the father. “You can hear it, can’t you?”

Benny nodded his head. “Its heartbeat is strong. Fooled me for a second thinking it was you and Dean. But then I started to piece things together. How far along?”

“Seven weeks.” You unwillingly answered his question. You crossed your arms over your chest as you adjusted your footing. At this point you wondered if you might as well tell the entire world about the fact you were an expecting mother with how everyone was finding out. Or in Sam’s case, being smart enough to piece together the symptoms that came out of nowhere.

“Does Dean know?” Benny asked, prying for more information.

Your felt your face scrunch up slightly as you stared at the vampire with almost an offended look at his blunt question that felt like it came out nowhere. “No…Dean doesn’t. Nobody does. Except for a very good friend of mine. And I’d like to keep it that way. Unless you’d me to personally separate your head from your neck. You subtly threatened the vampire with an icy cold tone as your hand lightly traced the handle of the machete. Benny raised his hands slightly, giving you an indication that he meant no harm. “Does Elizabeth know she’s making gumbo with her great grandfather?”

“No, as far as she’s concerned, I was just another drifter. I’d like to keep it that way, as well. We all have our secrets.” Benny said. You didn’t know why, but you felt his words settle in your mind in a guilty sort of way. Keeping secrets from the ones you loved to protect them wasn’t a good thing. Benny was trying to protect Elizabeth, you were too much of a coward to tell Dean. "It’s been tough walking the line here after all those years in purgatory not having to deal with the hunger. But Elizabeth…she keeps me honest. I finally feel like I got a handle of this thing.”

You understood the blood lust, but just in a different way. Back when you were a half demon it was a never ending battle trying to keep it under control. Instead of looking at a human body and having the urge to rip their throat out to drink their blood like Benny wanted, you wanted to hurt them. Inflict unimaginable pain that scared you to this very day from what you were capable thinking of. However you never went fully over the edge from no return, because just like Benny, there was someone to help pull you back. Dean was always there for you when you needed him the most. But even the best of support didn’t stop trouble from coming.

“Handle on things?” You found yourself repeating after him, resisting the urge to scoff from how the way things were working out for him. “Benny you have got two dead bodies on your hands and two hunters on your ass. I’d be picking up your crap and getting far out of town.”

“Oh, please. The half-wit who found me at the cafe?” Benny didn’t seem all that worried as he turned his back to you and started talking a few steps forward. “I’ll take my chances.”

“That half-wit was sent by Dean’s brother, and trust me—Sam’s not someone you want to mess with.” You said, giving the vampire a glimpse of the trouble that would be coming his way if he didn’t take your advice and getting out of here before it was too late.

Benny stood with his back to you for a moment as he listened to your words. You thought for a second that he might be smart enough to do what you told him, but it was the complete opposite of what you could hope for when he turned around slightly. “I don’t have time to worry about them, Y/N. I don’t think Desmond had an ounce of steel in his spine, but I was wrong about that. So now I’m gonna do what I should have done two days ago, which is put him back where he belongs.”

“What is with you men 'putting things’ into your own hands? Let me tell you how this is gonna work. You need to sit on the sideline while Dean and I convince Sam and Martin to go after Desmond.” You said. “They see you out there, they don’t care if you’re collecting for the March of Dimes. They are gonna slice first and ask questions later. You know that.”

Benny didn’t know you very well like he did Dean, the both of you shared this second encounter that wasn’t on the best of terms, but he had a feeling you weren’t like the rest of the hunters he met in his lifetime as a vampire. You didn’t try to kill him the first time you met him and you were on the side that didn’t want to see him dead. He got the impression that you were a strong type of woman that stuck to what you believed. You even got to see the other side of what it was like to be a monster, per se. Benny found himself deciding to put a bit of trust in your plan.

“You really think they’ll go for that?” Benny still couldn’t help himself but ask.

You had to admit it was going to be a tough one to somehow convince Sam that Benny wasn’t so bad, and Martin to back off. Now he was just a bomb waiting to go off. You shrugged your shoulders as you gave the vampire a tight smile from the lack of answers you could give him. There was someone you knew who would be someone who could try and talk some sense into the two hunters. You shoved a hand inside your pocket to pull out your phone and call Dean to get him on the same track as you were. Maybe he could talk some sense into his little brother.

\+ + +

You and Dean got back to the motel a short while later after he found you in the woods talking to Benny. While you told him everything that his friend did, you knew the information needed to be passed on to his brother and Martin. But it seemed they weren’t all convinced a vampire could change his ways because they had someone to hold them accountable. You sat on the exact spot where you left Sam while Dean chose to stand while he told the story you did to him. Martin reacted the way someone in his condition did, unable to wrap his head around the idea that what he was supposed to know was the wrong thing and he was supposed to trust Benny.

“Let me get this straight.” Martin said, trying to wrap his head around the story he was told “I follow your boy down a freaking path and trip over a fresh vamp kill, and then you practically catch him in the act of burying a second body and you’re still on his side?”

“Vampires pick people off from the outskirts of town, okay?” Dean said, making a few things clear about the habits of the creatures Martin used to be able to hunt when he was sane. The older hunter occupied himself while he listened to Dean by grabbing an ice tray from the freezer to pair it with his glass of whiskey. Instead of getting ice of the tray like a civilized human being, you felt yourself jump slightly when Martin violently slammed a fork into the ice to break it up. You gave the man a dirty look while he stood with his back to you. “Not in the cafes that they work in with their great-grandkids. In fact, killing any human—it’s not his style.”

”'Not his style’?“ Martin repeated after Dean, his voice sounding shocked, almost offended, at the way the man was talking. He could only think about what John would do if he were alive and to hear his oldest son talking the way that he was, and defending a vampire. ”'Not his style’?“

"Listen, Dean, we came here on a dead body. You asked for some time, and now there’s another dead body.” Sam spoke up, trying to be the voice of reason here about what the right thing to do was. All evidence pointed in the direction that Benny was guilty, and his time on earth was growing shorter. “Are we just going on trust here?”

You remained silent on this one as you turned your gaze over to the older Winchester to see what his response was. While you wanted to give Benny the benefit of the doubt here, even you had to admit things weren’t looking so good. You were going to side with him long as Benny remained innocent. But you still had no hesitance in ending the vampire’s life if he stepped out of line once. Dean’s reply wasn’t so shocking when he replied with a “yes” a few short moments later after a silence fell over the four of you.

“Okay. Because we’ve killed for a lot less, and you know how these things turn out for us.” Sam warned his older brother about the dangers of becoming friends with monsters.

“Yes, I do—too well. In fact, every relationship I’ve ever had has gone to crap at some point.” Dean agreed with the younger Winchester on that point. You couldn’t help yourself but think that the man was digging himself into a hole from the way that he was talking. He was so blinded by his need to help Benny, he almost forgot about the very family that was trying to do the right thing in their eyes. But you knew there was no amount of sympathetic story to change Sam’s mind. “But the one thing I can say about Benny—he has never let me down.”

You had to admit the older Winchester’s last remark made a stinging feeling settle in you from how much his words made an impact that hit harder than he intended. While it hurt you slightly, for Sam it was a slap across the face for so many different reasons over the years of obstacles all of you faced with him being the reason why they started. “Well, good on you, Dean. Must feel great finally finding someone you can trust after all these years.” Sam sarcastically replied.

You rubbed your face with your hands from the way this conversation was turning out. It was starting to make your head hurt and your mood shift into frustration and annoyance from the same argument you were hearing for the thousandth time. “I gotta pee.” You declared when you pushed yourself up to your feet. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone for all of two seconds.”

You made your way across the room and stepped inside the bathroom to give yourself a few moments of privacy alone and for the chance to have the boys reach an agreement on how all of you should handle this Benny situation. You were hoping and praying for a miracle to happen when you went to go pee for what felt to be the tenth time today, but you knew when you got out they were still going to be arguing. Right as the door slammed shut and Sam heard the lock click back, he knew that it was now a chance for him and Dean have a chance to discuss things more on a bitter level without you interrupting them.

“All I’m saying is that Benny is innocent.” Dean said. He thought his word alone and your trust in the vampire would be enough for his brother and Martin to back off. But it wasn’t.

“No.” Sam said, pushing himself up to his feet from the bed and walked over to his brother to take control of the situation. “You’re too close to this. It’s bad enough you dragged Y/N into this.”

“You’re not gonna find him. And if you do, I’m gonna tell you this. You’ll be lucky to get out alive.” Dean warned the younger Winchester about the trouble he was going to get himself in. As if he thought Sam couldn’t take on a vampire like Benny by himself. The older man pointed to Martin to give his own opinion about how he thought things were going to end up if he step foot near Benny. “And you—you go with him, you’re a dead man—period.”

Martin finished up his drink and placed the glass down on the table. He was growing tired of Dean belittling him, thinking that he couldn’t do the right thing. Like he was the one with all the loose screws. No, it was him who needed to get himself checked out. Martin looked over his shoulder to see the brothers were focused deep into their argument, they had no clue he dragged over a chair and shoved it underneath the bathroom door handle, keeping you locked in the bathroom. He casually went back to the table to grab his hunting knife as well, knowing he would need it to take down Benny.

“These are innocent lives we’re talking about, Dean. And you’re willing to risk that on Benny’ s word alone?” Sam asked his brother a serious question, making him think that he was risking here for the sake of a friend he met while in purgatory. But it seemed that even the idea of someone else’s life being put on the line wasn’t good enough for Dean to see the big picture.

“Damn right I am.” Dean said, standing his ground once and for all.

That’s when Martin decided to take matters into his own hands about how he wanted to handle things. He slowly approached the older Winchester from behind, making just enough noise for Dean to turn around just enough to be taken by surprise when Martin threw a punch, catching the man off guard. The punch was hard enough to knock Dean straight to the ground and out cold. Sam found himself stepping back from the unexpected escalation of things.

You heard what sounded to be commotion and roughhousing from the other room. You quickly began to get yourself together and attempted to step out to see what the problem was. But you were facing one yourself. You turned on the door handle and pulled it, expecting it to open like it did just a moment ago. For a second you thought you were so caught up in the sudden shouting of voices and banging noise that you had accidentally forgot to unlock the door. But that wasn’t the case. You tried again to try and get the door to open, but it was stuck. You banged a few times on the door to get one of the boys’ attention, little did you realize that someone wanted to keep you in here and out of the way.

“Guys!” You shouted again when you pounded your fist on the door again, wondering what the hell was going on out there. You pressed your ear against the door to try and hear something, if anything. There was what sounded to be the sound of shuffling of feet and something being dragged across the floor. A bad feeling began to sit in your stomach when you tried to open the door again, but it remained stuck. “Hey! What the hell is going on?”

You suddenly pressed your ear against the door again when you heard muffled voices coming from the other side. You suddenly realized that either Martin or Sam had went off on the deep end. And they locked you in the freaking bathroom to make sure they could go after Benny. That was the only thing that made sense. You tried your hardest to kick the door down with what strength you had and scream on top of your lungs for them to get you out, but all you managed to do was waste your breath and grow tired after a while. You gave up for a few minutes to catch your breath and leaned yourself against the counter top.

A pissed off expression fell on your face as you stared at the bathroom door. Sam was going to get his earful and his ass handed to him once you saw him again. What he did was way over the line. And you were going to get back at him. Your hormones were making you think of a good plan of revenge, you didn’t think of what the consequences would hold up for the future.

\+ + +

Twenty minutes later of shouting and pounding on the door finally paid off when you heard the chair that must have been stuck underneath the handle scrap across the floor. A few seconds later the door opened to reveal a Winchester, just not the one you wanted. You pushed past Dean as you shouted where the hell his little brother was. You looked around the room to see that Sam was gone, along with Martin. You felt yourself let out a bitter chuckle from what they did. You looked over at Dean to see that his forehead was bloody, your anger subsided for a second as you reached out to touch his face and inspect the wound.

“Oh my God.” You mumbled in a concerned voice as you examined the blood stain. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Same thing as you. Martin has more guts than I thought.” Dean said. You stared at him with a slightly confused expression before you realized what he meant. You muttered a few curse words and threats underneath your breath as you got your jacket, Dean doing the same, knowing his brother and Martin were doing exactly what you told them not to. Dean grabbed his phone and called up Benny, who answered after a few rings and wondered if things had gone well. “They didn’t go for it. They’re on their way to you. I’d get scarce.”

“No offense, Dean, but your little brother doesn’t exactly put chills up my spine.” Benny said.

“Benny, listen to me. Do not underestimate my little brother, okay? He can and will kill you given the chance.” Dean said, giving the vampire a fair warning. You busied yourself with finding a somewhat clean towel and tossed it over to Dean to get the blood off his forehead. Benny was silent for a few moments before he agreed with the plan and asked what was next. “Y/N and I go find Desmond.”

“You take me with.” Benny said, thinking that was the best idea.

“Hey, I just told you—best thing you can do is lay low.” Dean told the vampire. The both of you stepped out of the motel room and out into the hall, passing by a housekeeper that was walking and pushing her cart. You wanted at least one thing to go right today, but it seemed that it wasn’t in the cards.

“That ain’t gonna work this time, bud.” Benny said as he tried to negotiate with the hunter. “You take me with, or I don’t tell you where he is.”

You rolled your eyes in frustration when you happened to overhear the conversation and Benny dangle a piece of help over your heads. “You know where he is?”

“He said he’s not gonna stop killing till I join his little nest. Two bodies is enough. I told him I’m in.” Benny told the hunter what he had to to try and rouse out the other vamp. Dean felt it was a bad idea, but it was the only option he had. “Dean, this is my fight. Are you in or are you out?”

Dean found himself at a crossroads of what the right thing to do was. He wanted to make sure that Benny was out of harm’s way, but he also didn’t want his brother to wrap himself up in all of this mess. You, however, knew exactly what you wanted to do. “I don’t know about you, Dean, but it’s been a long ass time since I beheaded someone. And I’d like that someone to be Desmond. But Martin could be a close second.“

The older Winchester gave you a look from your remark and ended the call with Benny when he agreed with the plan. The both of you got into the Impala after making it down and out of the motel and to Baby that was parked exactly where he left it. You got into the passenger seat as Dean got into the driver’s side. Before either one of you could hit the road, Dean decided to do one thing that was something he had been putting off for a worst case scenario. And when he told you what it was, part of you knew that it was wrong. But you didn’t stop him. Because you were still angry at Sam for what he let Martin do.And for so many other things you didn’t realize about until that very moment when Dean set off a fake distress to Sam that came in the name of Amelia Richardson.

It made you realize that you didn’t really like her. And you didn’t want Sam to be with her. Because for some reason there was a selfish part in you that you had only felt once before. And that was years ago, when Sam died, you were so blinded with grief that you would do anything to bring him back to life.

You were so desperate to keep the boys with you, you’d do anything to make sure that it was a possibility. Even if it mean making Sam realize that he couldn’t be with the woman he loved after all the promise you made to him. And helping Benny stop a vampire buddy from his past before telling him to get the hell out of Dean’s life for good. It sounded like an easy plan, but you knew it was going to be harder than you thought.

\+ + +

It was around nightfall when you and Dean arrived at the location where Benny told you to meet him at where you would find Desmond. The last nest of vampires the three of you took down were located on their own private island deserted away from the rest of the town and only accessible by boat. Here Desmond was hiding out in a shipyard that was all abandoned and a little too eerie looking for your personal liking. Much as the place gave you the creeps when you examined it from the passenger window, you had a feeling this was going to be an easy kill. It was three against one vampire. But you could never be so sure.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit…off from what you were about to do. Sam wasn’t here to help like you were used to. He wasn’t around like the nest you took down with Benny and Dean. Sam was waiting for you back at the docks when he started to grow suspicious. But you had a feeling he wasn’t even in the state anymore. You sent him spiraling down in a panicked frenzy from what you did. When your anger towards him began to finally subside, you began to think logically of what you had done. And what a horrible mistake you made. Much as you wanted to call him and apologize, there was still another part of you that wanted him out of the picture long enough to finish this and get the hell out of here.

Dean pulled up to a spot that was a decent amount away from the shipyard and hidden in the forest of trees that would make it near impossible for Desmond to see you coming and to give you enough time to gather a few supplies before going in. Benny was waiting for the both of you with a machete in his hand, eager to finish this business once and for all. You got out of the Impala with Dean, your own machete in your grip as you followed behind him to the trunk. You took a moment to observe the scenery a little better as Dean opened up the trunk. 

“This the place, huh?” Dean asked his fellow vampire friend. You headed over to grab a few syringes of dead man’s blood when he offered you some as back up. You put them in your jacket pocket for easy reach. “You want me and Y/N to hang back while you guys do some trust falls and binge-drinking?”

You couldn’t help yourself but snicker quietly to yourself from Dean’s remark. Benny found a chuckle at the man’s sarcastic sense of humor as a smile seemed to have crept across his face. “Man, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you have an extremely low opinion of us vamps.”

“Pssh.” Dean said. “Call it healthy skepticism.”

You rolled your eyes from the banter between both of the men and pulled out your machete. You looked over at the docks just across the way and took one more look around the premise before making your way forward. The three of you headed inside the cabin quiet as possible to have at least a bit of element of surprise on your fanged friend that was lurking in the darkness. You followed behind the two men as you held your machete in one hand and a flashlight in the other to help guide you through the place without stumbling. Dean nodded his head to the left where he would go, Benny veered off into the opposite direction. You decided to keep going straight forward to see where it might take you.

You continued on your way through the place without making too much sound. As you made it almost across the room, you suddenly felt that feeling you had grown to listen to as a hunter. It was the feeling like someone was behind you. You tightened your grip around the machete and quickly turned quick on your heels. You pointed your flashlight directly forward to whomever that was trying to get the jump on you. But there was nobody there. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you began making your way forward to where you had come in. There was enough junk around this place for someone to try and hide. However you weren’t that stupid to let Desmond think he could go up against you without having a fair fight. He might be quiet, but you were fast.

You had a feeling he was right behind you, and before he could do anything stupid, you quickly turned around and swung the machete in the air to attack him like you wanted. But it seemed that you weren’t fast as you thought you were. You felt him grab ahold of your wrist holding the machete, stopping you midway from slicing his head off. And before you could attack him with your other, he grabbed the hand hold the flashlight. Before you realized what was happening, you felt yourself being thrown across the room like a rag doll.

Your mind instantly feared for the safety of the fetus inside of you that you knew he heard from the heartbeat beating in rhythm with yours. But your worries for the possible damage and even worse case scenario was momentarily forgotten when you felt your body hit the ground and pain fell over your entire body. You roughly tumbled to the ground as your fall was broken by a wooden crate that crumbled underneath your weight. You winced in discomfort as you rolled over on your back, one hand rested against your stomach as the other tried to reach for the syringe of dead man’s blood that you had in your pocket. But before you could, Desmond was on top of you, grabbing a hold of your jacket and momentarily stopping you.

“Benny never told me he was bringing a couple of friends.” Desmond said. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as you tried your hardest to somehow find a way to get out of this when you noticed his teeth were now replaced with a mouthful of fangs. “Especially not one that’s two for the price of one.”

“You’re not gonna talk a lot, are you?” You sarcastically asked the vampire, trying to distract him as you reached for the syringe again. “I’ve been dealing with bickering brothers all day. Not to mention a lunatic of a hunter. And you’re kind of making it worse by sitting on my stomach that’s kind of trying to grow a baby. Now, get off me!”

You managed to reach for the syringe when you yelled in his face of a command that you knew he wasn’t going to listen to. You tried your hardest to jab the needle into any sort of skin that you saw, but Desmond wasn’t stupid as you hoped he’d be. You suddenly felt him grab a hold of your hand that was holding the syringe and showed you that he was more powerful than you. You winced in pain when he started to squeeze your hand until it felt like it was going to break, but his intention was to break the syringe, making you feel the glass break and the blood become useless. You let out an involuntary noise of pain from what was happening.

Ever since you started hunting you were expecting your life was going to end from a hunt that went wrong. Yet, when you learned you were carrying, part of you knew that you should have taken it easier. Putting yourself in life threatening danger had its consequences. And in the moment you were lying down on the ground with a bloodthirsty vampire, you realized that there was a slim chance things weren’t going to work out in your favor. And you suddenly started to remember the warning that Sam had given you and his concern about taking this hunt with Benny.

You knew you couldn’t fool someone like Sam with your condition. He was too smart for his own good at times. And he was right about putting yourself in danger like this. Why didn’t you listen to him? You weren’t the only one that was about to become drained by Desmond. And you sure as hell weren’t going to be the only one that died if Benny or Dean didn’t realize what was going on. You felt a rush of panic rush over you when you realized what was happening and your lack of ability to be able to stop him.

Desmond sliced a spot on your neck with his fingernail, not deep enough to cause too much harm, but just enough to let some blood rise to the surface for him to get a taste. You tried your hardest to work through the pain as you thought about screaming for help. But it was hard to even breathe from the weight on top of you. Desmond licked his finger to taste your blood. And it seemed that he liked you. You pressed your eyes shut as you opened your mouth to let out a scream for him to stop when you felt him rush forward to sink his fangs into your neck. But all that came out was a breath when you felt Desmond lean backwards.

You opened your eyes to see that your prayers had been answered. Benny stood over you with his machete in one hand and Desmond still straddling you, but his head cut clean off from what the other vampire had done. You managed to get out of the way when you saw Desmond’s head roll right off his shoulders and to the ground. You let out a sigh of relief as you laid on the ground for a moment longer when Desmond was pushed off of you. You lightly slammed your fist against the ground from what happened, knowing you should have been smarter.

“It took you long enough.” You grunted out from the pain that you were hoping that would start to subside so you could get up back to your feet.

“You’ve lost your step, my friend. Where’s the hunter I was introduced to?” Benny sarcastically asked. You scoffed and lifted your hand up for him to take so he could pull you up to your feet. He did so without breaking a sweat. You moved around your shoulders and subconsciously ran a hand over your stomach, wondering if the baby was all right. “You’re not gonna be able to do this for much longer, I’m afraid.”

“Please. I could be six months pregnant and still kick your ass.” You mumbled, trying your hardest not to talk too much from the pain in your neck. All though the cut wasn’t too deep, it still hurt when you moved and tried to speak. You brought up a hand to ever so lightly touch the wound, but even doing that made you wince. You noticed that there was more blood than you thought, the sticky substance and its faint iron rich smell lingered in your senses. But if you could smell it, your eyes slowly wandered over to Benny. You felt your stomach drop in nervousness when you saw his gaze on the bloody wound. “You okay?”

Benny broke his concentration on the wound when he heard your voice and the sound of Dean’s approaching footsteps to see what was going on. You moved your gaze away from the vampire and to the hunter when he noticed you were bleeding from your neck and a decapitated Desmond laid at your feet. Dean pieced together what happened without asking as he approached you. You smiled faintly at him and mumbled that you were fine. However your attention lingered back to Benny when he didn’t respond to your own question out of concern. Benny didn’t say anything. He did what he thought was best, he walked away to distant himself from the situation before he could do something stupid.

You got a clean rag from the Impala to try and clean up the cut best that you can. You kept your distance from Benny as Dean decided to have a private talk with the man.The both of them knew that the problem might have been solved, but the ending wasn’t what Benny hoped for. 

“My life here is over, isn’t it?” Benny asked the dreadful question.

“Afraid so.” Dean said. He hated it himself that the vampire couldn’t have the quiet life that he so desired. He worked hard for it by keeping his bloodlust under control and his nose clean. But it was his past and old friends that ruined it for him. “Once word gets out, the machete swingers that’ll come for you…you can’t take them all. It’s impossible. And even if you could…”

“We’d have a problem.” Benny finished the hunter’s thought, knowing exactly where he was going with the warning. Too many bodies would lead to more trouble that would never end.

Dean felt for the guy. He knew what it was like to want to settle down his roots and find some normalcy in a world full of darkness and monsters. He tried it a few years ago, but it blew up in his face in a way that he was trying to prevent Benny from facing. "Guys like us, we don’t get a home. We don’t get family.”

“You got Sam.” Benny reminded the hunter. All though you were a good distance away from them, Benny could hear the beating heart of the hunter’s unborn child he was oblivious to. “You have Y/N, too. That don’t seem so bad.”

"Yeah. But it ain’t all rainbows and sunshine with them.” Dean mumbled, admitting a bit of truth that reflected the years of struggle all of you had faced. And not to mention the fight that happened just earlier today. “Benny, you got to go deep underground, where nobody knows who you are.”

Benny nodded his head slowly in agreement. “Yeah. I got one last thing I got to do.”

\+ + +

Saying goodbye to the people that you had formed bond with, even if was for a short while, were painful. But not getting to was the worst of all. Benny wanted to see his great-granddaughter, Elizabeth, one last time. He watched her from the screen door of the restaurant as she worked the busy night shift. Her smiling face and cheery demeanor bubbled through as she talked to customers and waited tables. The woman he had grown a close bond with as Roy would soon be gone for good. For the safety of his life, as hers as well if any hunter found out the family resemblance. You met some nasty people in your time, they’d do anything to get the kill. And Benny understood the consequences.

“Time to go, buddy.” Dean spoke up, breaking the vampire’s concentration after a minute or so. You stood next to Benny with a solemn look on your face at how things had to be. All though you had only met the southern vampire once, there was something about him that you had grown to like. There was something about him that you understood why Dean had grown to trust in purgatory. Benny was loyal, but he was also caring. He treated the ones he trusted like a close friend, and would do anything to make sure they were safe.

“Thanks for not giving up on me, brother.” Benny whispered to the hunter. Both of them shook hands as they exchanged a small smile from the departure that he was about to make. You gave the vampire a warm smile of your own when he looked in your direction to say a farewell. “And it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. You make sure this one stays out of trouble.”

“I’ll try my hardest.” You promised the vampire, your smile slowly growing into a smirk as you looked over at Dean for a moment before turning your attention back to him. “Keep your nose clean, Benny. And don’t do anything stupid.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Benny said. You reached out a hand for him to shake as your final goodbye. You noticed that his grip was strong and firm. However before he let go, he kept your hand in his grip for a moment. You stood with your back to Dean, allowing your expression to falter slightly in curiosity from what he was doing. His tone lowered as he made sure to look at you straight. The tone of his voice was serious from what he was about to say, and while you knew what he was referring to, Dean was slightly confused. “You take care of yourself, darling. You hear me?”

You nodded your head slowly as you gave him one last smile. You dropped your hand to your side and watched as Benny finally headed over to his beat up truck that took him all over the place since coming back from purgatory. It had taken him home, but due to circumstances, he was forced to flee. This hunt put a few things in perspective for you. You felt bad for how things had to work out…for everyone. You wished that Benny could stay, you wished that you never sent that text to Sam. You wished for so many things to be different. But the reality of things for people like you were bitter.Things seemed good for a while, but then reality came and kicked you straight in the teeth. The ball was up in the air for you, now you were waiting for it to drop.

\+ + +

Now that Benny was in the wind and Desmond was dead, it was time to get out of town and head to Texas where you knew a pissed off Sam would be waiting for you. You settled yourself into the passenger seat with every intention of sleeping on the way there, the exhaustion you felt was giving you no choice of staying up. The hunt seemed to have taken more out of you than you expected. This had been a particularly stressful one for many different reasons. Partly because your life was put in danger and nearly thought you were going to have your throat ripped out. The fighting between both of the brothers had been brewing over the past day and a half since involving yourself with Benny again. And the guilt weighing heavily on your chest from the things you had done to Sam. Making him think all sorts of terrifying fears that nobody should have to go through.

You shut your eyes and leaned back in the passenger side of the Impala’s front seats, letting the rocking motion of the car and music Dean was quietly playing in the background lull you off to sleep like the hundreds of times before. Dean occupied himself by driving the way there, every so often stealing glances from the corner of his eye, watching as you fell asleep. When he knew that you were finally asleep, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of a hunter he knew was left high and dry by Sam. Who knocked Dean out and handcuffed him to a radiator before locking you in the bathroom to put a stop to the Benny situation the way he wanted with Sam.

Martin answered after only two rings. “Hey, Dean.” 

“Look, I’m just calling to let you know that the situation is resolved.” Dean said. He got straight to the reason why he was calling in the first place, not in the mood for small talk between the both of them for the sake of being polite. “Benny was not lying. There was another vamp, me and Y/N ganked him—together.”

“Oh. That’s good, Dean.” Martin said. The hunter seemed rather…oddly calm when he heard the news. It sounded far different from the person Dean saw a few hours ago back at his motel. Something about it fell off, but Dean blamed it on the breathing techniques or whatever kind of therapeutic crap Martin learned in the loony bin to keep his head on straight. 

“Yeah, shut up and listen to me.” Dean said, cutting off the man from saying anything else he wasn’t in the mood to hear. “Benny’s long gone, and he won’t be coming back, ever. So for your own sake, do not follow him. Are we clear?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Dean.” Martin reassured the man. “I’m long gone, too.”

“Oh, and, Martin?” Dean was about to end the call, but he decided to be a friend and give the hunter some unsolicited advice before he ended up dead. “Find a new line of work.”

Before Martin could respond to the advice, Dean ended the call.

\+ + +

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he got to enjoy riding in the Impala with his music playing and nobody distracting him with an argument or a conversation he really didn’t want to have about a case. You were a heavy sleeper for the most part, you weren’t disturbed when Dean turned up the music a little bit louder to enjoy and started to softly sing along to the lyrics burned in the back of his mind while tapping on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the beat. Dean was only fifteen minutes away from getting out of town when his phone started ringing again.

He noticed that it was from an unknown number he didn’t have saved on his phone. Not thinking much of who the caller could be, he answered it with a simple yeah, presuming it was Sam. Only the voice on the other line was female, and had the slightest bit of a southern accent Dean heard earlier today. He turned down the music and spoke Elizabeth’s name in a worried tone, suddenly a bad feeling settled in his stomach.

“Y-You told me to call if I saw…” Elizabeth gathered what nerve she had left and tried to form a proper sentence for him, but she found herself trailing off for a moment before finishing. “Him.”

“What do you mean? Roy? Is he there right now?” Dean asked the woman, trying to figure out the situation. But the other line went silent for a second. “Elizabeth, what’s going on?”

“Just come.” Elizabeth pleaded, her voice breaking as it echoed from the other end of the line.

All that was enough for Dean to realize that something happened, something that he couldn’t ignore. Dean slammed his foot on the break and turned the car around one-eighty, sending you jolting awake after feeling yourself hit the car door. It took you all of two seconds to realize that something was going on when you saw the look on Dean’s face, the kind that you had seen time and time again when trouble brewed for the people he cared about.

While you expected Martin had grew a pair and did something reckless, you didn’t expect it in a way that put an innocent life in danger, even if they were a personal connection to Benny. You saw the diner Benny had been working at for the past month come into view from the Impala’s headlights, looking deserted except for one car. And a woman sitting on the steps. You realized that it was Elizabeth when you stepped out of the car and headed towards her, noticing right away she looked absolutely terrified out of her mind.

You felt your stomach sink in fear when you saw her shaking on the bottom step, her skin and clothes covered in blood. She didn’t say anything, all she could do was point a finger over her shoulder to the restaurant where the situation happened that left her covered in blood that wasn’t her own. However you noticed that there was a cut on her neck that was still bleeding, appearing deeper than your own that you had sustained earlier tonight.

You had found a clean cloth in the Impala after you left Benny fo the first time and kept it on just in case the wound started bleeding again. But it seemed Elizabeth needed it more than you. Pulling it out of your back pocket, you gave her a small, yet sympathetic smile as you sat yourself down right next to her, ever so softly placing the cloth against her neck to stop the bleeding and try to somehow make her feel a bit safer. You decided to stay with her and keep her company while Dean headed inside the restaurant to see for himself who the victim was, the vampire or the hunter.

Right away Dean could tell the scene wasn’t going to be a pretty one; droplets and a small pool of blood greeted him when he stepped through the door. In the darkness that was slightly lit by the neon restaurant sign outside, Dean made his way through, passing by flipped over chairs and tables that indicated a fight broke out here. Someone fought for their life, but lost.

Dean saw a pair of legs in the far distance fo the restaurant, and ever so slowly, he approached it. In the back of his mind he was expecting to see Benny lying on the ground, his head detached from his body like Martin and Sam wanted. Karma’s way of biting him in the ass for what he did to his brother. However when he approached the body, it was of a familiar face, but not one that he was expecting. Martin Creaser laid on the ground with his throat ripped out. He went up against the beast, but it seemed he was the one who ended up dead.

\+ + +

It sounded horrible to say, but you were happy to hear that Martin was dead. Tonight proved that he was a lousier hunter than he was to begin with, and more reckless than he should have been by putting Elizabeth’s life on the line to get Benny where he wanted him. But it only ended with him being the one who took his last breath. You and Dean didn’t say much on the way out of town after you made sure Elizabeth was somewhat okay and the cops got the story. You wanted to sleep again, but you were kept up by the sight of Elizabeth’s shaken up face and Martin’s ripped out throat. You’ve seen so many awful things, but it never got any easier.

You were sitting in the passenger seat staring out the window when you heard ringing coming from somewhere in the Impala. The both of you looked around for a moment trying to figure out where it was coming from before you realized it was coming from the glove compartment where you stashed all of the old burner phones collected over the years. You popped it open and looked through a few until you saw the one lighting up. When you looked at the small screen to see the caller I.D., you felt your heart stop when you saw Sam’s name pop up on the screen. You let out a quiet sigh from the dreaded conversation you didn’t want to deal with right now. But you forced yourself to flip open the phone and put it on speaker.

“Sammy?” You answered the call. “Is that you?”

“‘Sam, I need your help. Come quick.’ Nice one.” Sam repeated the infamous text message you saw Dean type out in front of you. You could have stopped him at any moment and told him that it was the wrong thing to do, but you didn’t. You let out a quiet sigh from the panic you had put him through. “Swapping Amelia’s phone out with a burner, sending a distress signal…you got me good, Dean. When did you do that?”

“While back, in case I needed it. Looks like I made the right call.” Dean said. “Did you see her?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I saw her.” Sam said. You heard him clear his throat as he tried not to get angry over what his brother did. He thought this was Dean’s way of making him realize that Amelia’s life went on without him, that she forgot about him. “And she’s doing just fine. But, ‘course, you know that.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” Dean admitted. “I did know it was the only way to get you to lay off.”

Sam scoffed at his brother’s way of thinking. “So? Is it done?”

“Yeah, it’s done.” You answered the young man’s question, reminding him you were still here.

“Any casualties?” He asked, you bit the inside of your cheek from the news you were going to have to tell him. When you told him the other dead body was Martin, you could just imagine the pissed off look on his face from how the way things turned out. “Was it Benny?”

“Look, Sammy, I don’t play to play devil’s advocate, but…he had it coming.” You said, finding yourself defending the vampire one last time. You knew it was only making him more angrier at you from the way you were letting all of this slide in a way that a hunter shouldn’t. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

“I know what happened, Y/N.” Sam said, stopping you from coming up with a story that painted Benny to be the good guy he was told to trust. You rolled your eyes as you let out a sigh from how you were being treated by him. Not that you could blame him.

“Okay, you want to listen to me or not?” Dean asked his little brother, Sam responded by hanging up the phone. You shut the phone a second later and placed it down on the seat so it was now sitting between the both of you. You heard Dean let out a scoff as he started to shake his head, mumbling an insult underneath his breath. “Stupid little freaking brat.”

“Can you blame him for being angry?” You found yourself asking the older Winchester, suddenly becoming sick and tired of his attitude. Dean took his eyes off the road for a moment to give you a slightly confused look as to why you were giving him grief. “You really shouldn’t have sent that text, Dean. It was bad as Martin going after Elizabeth.”

“You were all for it when I did it.” Dean said, defending himself against your judgement. “And it’s nothing like what—”

“Yes, it kind of is. You made Sam scared out of his freaking mind wondering if something awful happened to Amelia. Maybe if you took five seconds to stop judging him you’d realize that he loves her…the way you love me.” You said, your voice dropping to a slight whisper. Dean expression changed slightly as he turned his attention back to the road. “If you haven’t noticed, Sam’s kind of got a cursed love life. But Amelia’s different.”

“People like us don’t get normal lives, Y/N.” Dean reminded you. “I think by now the both of you would get that.”

“And being friends with monsters isn’t what hunters are supposed to do. But here we are.” You snapped back at him with his stupid ideology he was trying to win the argument with. Dean took his eyes off the road one more time and gave you a look, almost as if he was tempting to ask you what had gotten into you. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back in the seat. “Wake me up when we’re in Texas.”

You didn’t say anything else to Dean for the rest of the car ride, but you wanted to. You wanted to tell him so many different things from how his friendship with Benny wasn’t worth it in the end. Or how he was pushing his little brother way because he was being a stubborn bastard. Most of all you wanted to tell him the reason why your emotions were fluctuating all over the place. But you kept your mouth shut and fell back into a dreamless sleep.


	9. Torn and Frayed.

You knocked on the motel door of room number one-eighteen that was booked for the night by a man that matched the description of someone who was six-foot four, neck length brown hair and was probably wearing plaid. The person behind the desk instantly knew who you were talking about, he said something about how he used to work here a year or so ago and helped fix up the place with a dog that he accidentally hit. You helped fill in the gaps when he tried to think of the dog’s name, you knew Sam had mentioned it was Riot. An Australian Shepard he left in Kermit, along with the woman he loved and a bit of happiness he spent his entire life trying to get. Only to come back when he thought his real life had caught up with the other one he spent such a short time enjoying, in a way that forced him back into all of this the first time he tried a go at leaving it.

You were honestly surprised that Sam opened up the door and only half attempted to slam it on your face when he saw it was you and his brother. You didn’t smile, you didn’t apologize right away for what you did. Instead you let Sam decide how he wanted things to go. Sam stood in the motel doorway for a moment, his infamous bitch face directed towards his older brother to show off how much he was pissed off at how things ended up here. Dean didn’t take much offense to it as he stepped inside the room, brushing past the both of you as he looked around to see if it had just been Sam. You walked into the room a second later with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Who did you expect?” Dean asked his little brother.

Sam didn’t responded to the question, he slammed the door behind you when he saw that it was the only two people he didn’t want to see. You wondered if he had seen Amelia being able to live a life without him. Maybe the both of them had met up again, and you reopened old wounds for the past couple. Sam stood where he was as Dean walked across the room. “Long drive?”

“Well, I wouldn’t had to make it if you hadn’t have hung up on me.” Dean responded.

“Yeah, well,” Sam said, defending himself for the actions he chose in the spur of the moment. “I heard all I needed to hear.”

“No, you heard what you wanted to hear.” Dean said, feeling the need to take it upon himself to correct his brother’s way of thinking and feeling. It was almost as if he could justify his choices to make them seem like it was the right thing to do. “I told you Benny wasn’t killing. Hell, Y/N watched him end the fangbanger that was.”

“How about Martin?” Sam questioned his brother. “How did he end that?”

“Stupid—just like I said it would. Crazy son of a bitch didn’t give Benny a choice.” Dean said. “It was self defense.”

“Seriously, Dean? That’s the story you’re going with?” Sam asked in almost a mocking tone from the excuse he was hearing and how ridiculous it sounded. “That the victim was the real victim here?”

“Hey, like it or not, that’s the truth, okay?” You couldn’t help yourself but speak up, trying to help guide some direction into this conversation before it turned into an argument. But you knew that it was impossible with the two brothers when they were worked up like this there was no way of talking them down like you hoped for.

“And there was a time when that actually meant something.” Dean said, feeling the need to add that in. As if that was going to change his little brother’s mind.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam agreed for the most part with that line of thinking. “No kidding.”

Dean stared at his brother with a slightly confused expression at the muttered remark, knowing it meant something more. "What does that mean?”

“You think this is just about Benny?” Sam asked his brother. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“What the hell do you think I’m talking about?”

“Amelia?” Dean asked, suddenly catching onto the reason why his brother was so pissed off at him. It wasn’t just because of the whole Benny situation, but because of a cheap trick he used to get him out of the way. “Oh, come on, man. I sent you that text ‘cause I needed you to—”

“You needed me to what? To tear ass to Texas? To be afraid that what happened to Jessica, what happened to…” Sam trailed off for a second as he started to slowly pace around the room, telling you about his worst fear that haunted him like a bad dream for so many years and came right back after he read that text. “Everybody that we care about might have happened to her?”

“You were gonna kill Benny.” Dean said. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Is that what we are?” Sam asked. He knew him and his brother were still on rocky terms, but he thought the man was better than to do something so low like this. It seemed that he was wrong to think so highly of his brother, because it seemed the man didn’t feel the same way about him. “You save a vampire by making me believe that the woman I love might be dead?“

“What do you want to hear, Sam? That I was wrong? Fine. I was wrong.” Dean said, apologizing in his own way that he thought was going to fix everything. But it didn’t take an idiot to hear how insincere the words sounded. You gave him a look of disbelief, Sam did everything in his power not to start punching his older brother. Because he really didn’t mean it. “But if you had just heard me out, if you had trusted me, all of this could have been avoided.”

“You didn’t want me to trust you. You wanted me to trust Benny, and I can’t do that.” Sam said, sticking to his morals of how he felt about monsters from his own past experience with them. “Not the way you got Y/N thinking he’s a good guy. Because I know what he is, and what he’s capable of.”

Every part of you wanted to speak up and defend yourself against what Sam said, but you remained silent, because it meant you sided with Dean. And if you mentioned the dangers that Benny brought along, it meant you were siding with Sam. So you remained silent. Because you saw no improvements for the near future. The both of them were so caught up in the past or trying so hard to be a good friend to the person who saved them from the afterlife, they forgot who really mattered the most here. You wandered over to the bed when you felt a dizzy spell hit you out of nowhere, but it went unnoticed by the brothers.

"Okay, well, then,” Dean said, knowing for himself that this conversation was getting nowhere productive. Both of them had stated the grounds of how they felt, now it was time to figure out where they went from here. “What the hell do we do now?”

“That depends. It depends on you.” Sam said. “On whether or not you’re done with him.”

“Well, honestly, I don’t know.” Dean mumbled, having the audacity to say such a thing after all that was said and done. Sam seemed genuinely surprised at his brother’s decision, and even the slightest bit hurt that he was trying to hide. You couldn’t take anymore of this argument if this was where it was going to lead.

Dean knew that Benny was the one person that was tearing the both of them apart, but he was still holding on, trying to be more of a brother to a vampire he spent one year with and saved his life from purgatory. Yes, you agreed to a certain point that Benny was a good guy who didn’t deserve to die again. But you wouldn’t choose him over Sam. And Dean should have known better. Sam was the only family he had left, his own flesh and blood who saved his life countless times on hunts. Who threw himself into the pit and suffered psychological damage and went a year soulless, who had been there pulling him back up to the surface every single time he dragged his feet, wanting to take the easy way out.

None of it mattered anymore to Dean because of what Sam had decided to do last year while you were gone. The younger man was overwhelmed with grief after seeing you die and then Bobby just a short time later, then seeing his brother and Cas disappear into thin air. All of his family he’s ever known was gone…just like that. But then he found Amelia by accident. Two broken people running from their past meet each other after he hit a dog and spend a year together, happy. But it was time to go back to the way things were. Sam made his selfish decisions by not looking for Dean, and the older Winchester had every right to be upset for a short while. But it was time to move on.

You wanted Sam to forget about Amelia, and you never wanted to see Benny’s face again for long as you lived. Because you realized the mistakes you made by feeding into the situation like you always did to make them happy. This was like Sam and Ruby being friends, and Dean wanting to run away to have a normal life. Now they were making the same mistakes both of them made in the past. And they never learned. You could take anymore of this argument.

“So, this is where we’ve ended up? Fighting over vampires and girls?” You asked the two brothers, even though you weren’t looking for an answer. You pushed yourself up to your feet as you stared at the both of them with a look of anger, and even the slightest bit of disappointment at how things were turning out. “After everything. You don’t learn. And you still won’t let it go.”

Sam let out a sigh as Dean rolled his eyes when you spoke up, putting yourself into an argument that he thought didn’t concern you. “Here we go.”

“Yeah. Here we go again, Dean. Here we go again with the same freaking argument I’ve been having to hear for the past five months straight! Sammy’s stuck in the past and Dean trusts a vampire over his own brother.” You said, finally speaking the brutal truth that had been lingering between all of you since you got back. Neither one of the boys responded or tried to defend themselves, and it wasn’t like you were going to give them a chance if they tried. They spoke what they felt, now it was your turn.

“I’m not gonna sit around anymore and watch you two rip each other’s throats out for the same crap the both of you did. You want to know the problem is? It’s Amelia and Benny. Both of you need to cut ties with them. Or else we’re never going to see eye to eye anymore.” You said, trying to find some sort of solution that they would have to agree on eventually. “I’m not taking sides anymore. You two need to realize that there’s two ways to fix this. Keep doing what you’re doing…or realize that this—the three of us—is all we have left. If you want to destroy that for your own personal reasons. Fine. Just think about the future.”

You knew it was a bit harsh for being so blunt like this and not giving them much of a choice in the matter of how you wanted them to handle things. But it was just your opinion, and at the end of it all, the boys were the one who were going to have to make the decisions on their own. You could only hope they were going to make the right one. Every part of you wanted to open your mouth and tell them the secret you had been keeping for the past two weeks, hoping it might somehow think about someone other than themselves. But it was always fear that held you back about how they were going to handle it. And you couldn’t take anymore stress right now.

“Glad I made the drive.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, responding to your advice by brushing it off like he didn’t even hear it.

You scoffed from how unreasonable he could be when he got worked up like this, which meant it was going to be an awkward drive. You stood where you were, flinching only the slightest when you heard the door slam behind Dean, leaving you and Sam alone. You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked around the room, all before your gaze fell on the younger Winchester and his sullen expression from what you had done. And the actions you took part in that lead the three of you here.

“I thought you had my back, Y/N.” Sam said, speaking up now that it was the both of you. “How could you do this to me?”

“If it’s worth anything, I’m sorry. I really am. I was angry at the time from what you said to me. I…I just don’t like people thinking that I’m not capable of taking care of myself. You know what it’s like for people to put you down.” You said. You apologize to him for what you did, but you weren’t going to tell him what he wanted to hear or walk on eggshells in order to make him feel better. Sam’s expression changed slightly. His shifting look of anger told you he thought your apology wasn’t good enough. You rolled your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “What do you want me to do, Sam? Support you?”

“Well, it’s a start.” Sam said. You found yourself staring at him like he just grew a second head, making you wonder if you heard him correctly. “I told you how I felt about her and how much she means to be. And you want me to just walk away from her? You know I love Amelia—”

"I know. And I’ve supported you with every decision that you ever made. Right or wrong, I was right there beside you cheering you on. But…I can’t do it, Sammy. Not anymore.” You said, your voice growing quieter as you told him the truth about why you were forcing yourself not to agree with this. You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at the man for a moment. In that moment you realized that you might not see Sam again, not in the way you were so used to. In a way that you had grew dependent on. "Because you were right about one thing.”

Sam furrowed his brow slightly as his expression changed into confusion from what you meant by that. “Right about what?”

You opened your mouth to finally let out the secret you had been keeping from everyone that you were close to and try to give him some context to why you had been acting so off. But before the two words could slip out of your mouth, they were replaced with the honking of a horn right outside of the motel room. You shut your eyes as you winced, knowing that it was Dean, and he was growing impatient from how long you were taking. You thought that maybe it was the universe telling you to keep the secret you had just a little bit longer.

You started walking until you were at the motel room door with your grip on the handle about ready to open it u and head out, but Sam called out your name, making you stop and look over at him. Eventually he could catch on from what you were trying to say. If he didn’t, then you had a feeling he made up on his mind on who he thought was more important to him. "Nevermind. It’s not like it matters, anyway.”

You opened up the door and headed out of the motel room alone to leave Sam in Texas so he could have his personal space to be with his thoughts. He needed some time to think about the future and what was important. So did Dean. You made your way to the Impala and slid yourself into the passenger seat again, a new arrangement that felt off each time you got into the car. You missed the backseat and its space, the obstructed view of two ginormous bodies occupying the front. Everything about this felt off. But you might have to get used to this. Everything felt like it was coming into perspective. You stared at the motel room door for a moment, resisting the urge to go back in there and drag Sam out of there.

Your concentration to the door was broken when you heard the Impala’s engine turn on, making you turn your head to now stare straight ahead, Dean’s outline in the corner of your eye. You watched as he shifted gears and got ready to pull out of the parking lot, but not before mumbling something underneath his breath he thought would go unnoticed. “About time.”

“I’ll take as much time as I damn well please.” You responded back to his remark in a cool tone. You turned your head to look at him and give him a dirty glare at his attitude he was projecting onto you. “Don’t ever tell me what to do.”

“I didn’t tell you to do anything. I said it was 'about time.’” Dean corrected you. You responded to him by rolling your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, moving your gaze back to the window to distract yourself for the long car ride. “Besides, it’s not like you listen to anyone half the time. You’re too busy talking over people and butting yourself in conversations where it doesn’t concern you.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. Next time you have anything to say I’ll make sure to shut right up and listen to you.” You said to him in the most sarcastic voice you could give him to prove how annoyed you were starting to get with him. “Because your opinion is clearly the only one that matters.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Dean asked you, finding none of this amusing.

You narrowed your eyes on him from his question that only grew you more agitated. “If you took your head out of your ass for one second maybe you’d realize I’m a little stressed out.”

“We’re all stressed out at the moment, Y/N.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes again from his response that wasn’t exactly helpful, and he didn’t find your behavior all that amusing. “Are you capable of anything other than rolling your eyes?”

“I don’t know. Are you capable of anything other than being a dick and thinking about yourself?” You responded to his question with another. Dean fell silent for a moment as he stopped himself from lashing back at you from anger. You shook your head and adjusted yourself in your seat to get more comfortable for the long and silent drive ahead of you. “Lets just go.”

Dean was more than happy to listen to your command without backlash or another remark he tried to mutter underneath his breath. He switched gears and began pulling out of the parking spot, making you look at the motel room door one more time. You crossed your arms tighter around your body as you watched it soon become nothing more than a small object in the rear view mirror, making you wonder if this was how things were going to be. And if there was really no way of stopping the boys from making the biggest mistake of their lives.

\+ + +

The both of you managed to spend most of the car ride in complete silence, the radio helping try and stop the awkward tension forming the farther you got away from Texas. Dean decided it was best to head to Rufus’ cabin to lay low for a while and for Sam to cool off. You didn’t care where you ended up at this point, all you wanted to do was take a hot shower and get some rest that wasn’t in the Impala. You still had every intention of not saying another word to Dean as you got out and started heading to the cabin so you could fulfill your need to unwind. But it seemed Dean had a few words lingering in the back of his mind on the drive back.

You made it halfway across the living room until Dean spoke up, the conversation starter he chose made you stop dead in your tracks. “If you were so against Benny this entire time, why did you help me out?”

“I never said I was against him.” You said, turning around to face the older Winchester to tell him how you felt. Even though you knew he wasn’t going to like it. “For the sake of everyone and my sanity, I think you should cut ties with him. The both of you are topside, go back to your lives.”

“Great idea. I’ll call Benny up right now and say never to talk to me again. Thanks for saving my life and pulling my ass out of purgatory, but my brother doesn’t like you. So we gotta end things.” Dean said. You clenched your jaw as you refrained from rolling your eyes again from how he was acting. “If Sam doesn’t like Benny, well, then that’s his problem. He never had good taste in friends. Like I’m gonna listen to him.”

You rubbed your face with your hands from how he was acting. “Do you ever sit down and think about the near future, Dean? About the possibility our family might not have Sam in it anymore because of your personal selfishness?”

“I’ll be lucky if I can even get to tomorrow, Y/N.” Dean said. “It’s not my problem if Sam doesn’t like Benny. That’s his choice he made. And I’m sure as hell not gonna change my life around to make him stick around.“

You forced yourself to try and inhale a deep breath to refrain yourself from snapping at him and saying something you might regret. But it was at this point you couldn’t take it anymore. Weeks and weeks of the pent up frustration you had been trying to keep at bay was too much for you to handle. You heard the boys argue and bicker over things that were small to end of the world big, but you weren’t going to let them break this family up because of who they spent some time with while you were gone. Not with so much resting on your shoulders and things you had still yet to tell him. You turned around to face Dean, and without thinking, you suddenly snapped at him.

"Why are you so selfish?!” You questioned the man standing in front of you, feeling another mood swing hit you. You knew there was no breathing technique or self restraint from stopping you at this point. “What did Benny ever do that Sam never did to save your whiny ass?”

“Benny was there for me when I needed him the most! He never let me down the year I knew him, never gave up on trying to get us out of that hellhole!” Dean argued back with you, his voice rising to match yours. “Benny has been more of a brother to me than Sam had been in a long time. That’s not family I want in my life, Y/N. It’s on Sam if he doesn’t want to be apart of it.”

In that moment you were suddenly overcome with the urge to tell him the news you had been harboring in the back of your mind since you found out. You wanted to scream on the top of your lungs that the Winchester family wasn’t going to be just the two of them anymore, it was going to have a new member in the next several months. You wanted to shake him and get Sam on the phone to tell the both of them to cut the crap and to forgive and forget. Much as you wanted to get this weight off your shoulders, the reality of things tugged at the back of your mind, making the scenarios you played out in your head come to haunt you.

The idea of Dean finding out that he was going to be a father always ended up tragic as it had for the Braden family when you thought about it. Maybe even worse. You thought about telling him, hoping that it might bring some happiness to him, a chance for him to realize that he could love someone and be a good father John never could for him. But he couldn’t. He dismissed all of it, because he was too scared to face reality. You pictured him storming out and leaving you, never to be seen again. Blaming it on how he wanted to keep you “safe.” Maybe even having Cas erase him from your mind so you could live a normal life, as if all the years you spent together with him weren’t good enough. His own self doubt and pity stopped him from facing responsibility he once would do anything to get.

Those thoughts and scenarios was when you were up late at night, lost in your own personal doubts about the future. And then there was the times you were in a conversation or doing some research for a hunt when your mind started drifting to a cute daydream of everyday life with the baby. Things that made you think that things might work out. But…then your mind started to drift to a dark place about what might happen in the upcoming hours during what you were doing. You were on the hunt, arrogant at the thought nothing could hurt you. But then the inevitable happens. You got hurt, you lost the baby. Dean hating your guts for what you had done.

You weren’t sure if you would even make it to full term. You knew your own mother had complications getting pregnant with you. She had miscarriage after miscarriage until she got desperate and got down on her knees and begged for a child from a demon. And while you were human, the fear lingered in the back of your head of what might happen. What if the child came out like you had? What if you did something and it ended up with demon blood in its system like Sam had? You hoped that Dean wasn’t going to raise this child like he had. There were so many worst case scenarios running through your mind, you grew scared that all of this was going to end up badly like it had for your parents.

So you kept the secret buried in the back of your mind, deciding that it was better to store in there for a little longer until you were ready and things were looking a little less gloomy. You were barely at eight weeks. There was still so much going on from the boys to closing the gates of hell. And that’s how you ended the argument, too. You just left Dean standing in the middle of the cabin, deciding you were too tired to fight anymore about this. If Dean wanted to make that decision, so be it. You walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it when he realized what he had done. And how pissed off you still were at him.

\+ + +

You remembered reading somewhere in a woman’s magazine that you should never go to bed feeling angry at your partner. You should try to resolve the problem and work out whatever was bothering you. But you brushed it off as some sort of cra that might work out for another couple that was facing issues that were more on a normal scale. You didn’t think it necessarily applied to your situation. You were fighting about asking your boyfriend to stop being friends with a vampire and your best friend to abandon the life he spent a year ago being happy.

The next morning you woke up feeling worse as you had when you went to bed, only to toss and turn, hating how lumpy and empty it felt without Dean. You had no new texts from Sam after you sent one, hoping he might give you a chance to put out the fire burning the bridge between him and his brother. You rolled out of bed a short time after waking up and staring up at the ceiling, waiting to hear any sort of movement from outside in the cabin. When you deemed the place quiet, you unlocked the door and slipped yourself out to fix yourself a warm cup of tea and some breakfast if you could find any in the cabin. If not, you’d just make a run into town.

You expected Dean to be around here somewhere when you noticed the Impala was still parked out front before you made your way out into the other part of the cabin. You made your way to the kitchen and fixed yourself some hot water and fetched out a tea bag. And while you were waiting for the water to boil, you wandered over to the beat up couch when you heard soft snoring coming from there. You found Dean lying on the couch with a beer bottle tucked into his side as he peacefully slept. You crossed your arms over your chest as you found yourself standing over him, watching the man sleep without him realizing.

You suddenly found yourself growing agitated at him. Dean wasn’t doing anything and he still pissed you off…at how freaking handsome he looked at the moment. You were always a sucker for his way of looking good no matter the occasion. Sometimes all it took was one look and you were wondering why you were arguing with him in the first place, a wink or a smile to make you feel like your cheeks were on fire. You had been with him for almost five years and he still made you feel like you falling in love with him at times, like everything was still new. It was something so simple as watching him sleep made you realize all over again about how much you loved him. Switch out the beer bottle for a sleeping baby resting on his chest and that would be your future…if you only told him without chickening out.

You let out a sigh and walked away from the sleeping man and to the kettle whistling for your attention. You fixed yourself the cup of tea and had every intention of going back to the bedroom, however as you turned around, the sound of your shuffling around must have made Dean stir awake. You looked straight ahead to see a familiar face standing in the middle of the living room, making you jump slightly, only it was Dean who got a rude awakening.

Dean jumped a few inches off the couch at the sight of Cas standing over him, watching him sleep. He accidentally let go of the beer he was cradling, making some of the drink spill out onto the couch before he grabbed it. “Damn it, Cas! How many times I got to tell you,” Dean slammed the beer bottle down onto the coffee table as he started to calm down from the jump scare the angel made a habit out of. “It’s just creepy.”

“Good morning, Cas.” You greeted the angel in a more friendlier tone as you approached the couch. You turned your head slightly to look at Dean from the corner of your eye before turning your attention back to Cas. “What are you doing here?”

“Dean, Y/N. I need your help.” Cas said, giving you the reason why he was here. You raised your brow slightly in curiosity as you took a sip of your drink, watching as Dean tried to wipe away whatever beer might have spilled on him. “The angel Samandriel, he’s been taken.”

Your face scrunched up slightly at who the angel was talking about, but then you were reminded of the one you had seen Dean talking to at the auction in attempt to get the tablet back. He took the vessel of some kid, and bet almost everything valuable to get the word of God back. “You mean Alfie, the wiener-on-a-stick kid?”

“Yes. I heard his distress call this morning.” Cas informed the both of you. 

 

“On, what angel radio?” You asked him, trying to keep your attention to Cas. You refrained from giving Dean an annoyed look as you watched him wipe away the sleep from his eyes. Either you were more hormonal than you realized, or he was doing everything in his power to make himself appear more…adorable. “I thought you shut that down.”

“Well, my penance, it’s going well, and I thought it was time to turn it back on.” Cas said. You nodded your head slowly, not sure if that was a good idea, considering what he told you in secrecy. However if he felt it was time to make peace with his fellow siblings, so be it. “I’ve been helping people.”

“Well, good for you.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He got himself up from the couch to suddenly regret the decision when he felt his neck and back start to feel sore. He let out a sigh and attempted to relieve some of the pain to a bare minimum.

“Have fun sleeping on the couch?” You curiously asked the man, hiding your smirk behind the cup as you took another sip of your drink. He turned his gaze to you and replied with a tight smile, refraining from saying anything to piss you off even more to end up in the same predicament as last night. “So, who snatched Heaven’s most adorable angel?”

The angel replied with a name that made you cringe, “Crowley.”

You and Dean looked over at one another for a moment, the feelings of last night faded away, knowing that it was time to get serious. Whenever the king of hell was involved, it always meant trouble for whoever was in the hot seat. “We’re listening.”

“Samandriel is being held in the general vicinity of Hastings, Nebraska.” Cas said.

“”The general vicinity’? That’s all you got?” You asked the angel. “It’s not much to go on.”

“Yes, which is why I need your help. It seems this is gonna involve…” Cas said, trailing off for a second as he spoke of the dreaded human interaction that he wasn’t ever good with. “talking to people.”

“Come on, Cas.” You teased the angel as you walked over to the table where you had left your laptop last night for safekeeping. “I thought you were a hunter now.“

“Well, I thought so, too,” Cas said. “but it seems I lack a certain—”

“Skill?” You finished the angel’s thought as you innocently opened up your laptop, expecting to be greeted by the black screen and the reflection of your disheveled appearance you made no effort in taming. However it seemed someone was on it and made no attempted to hide what they were doing. on the internet browser. “What the hell?

You made the realization that it was the infamous website of bustyasianbeauties, and someone had been enjoying the sight late last night. Before you could say anything else, Dean quickly slammed the laptop shut, managing to miss your fingers. You turned your head to look up at the man, your expression turning into a glare. He ignored your daggers as he turned the laptop around to try and cover his tracks like he should have last night.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you raised your brow, he fumbled to come up with an excuse that didn’t sound terrible. He opened the laptop back up, and quick as possible, exited out of the browser while covering the screen with his hand, trying to shield you and the angel from the young woman on the screen greeting the visitors with her dazzling smile and nothing else. You rolled your eyes when he finished up and pushed the laptop back over to you.

"All right.” You said, clearing your throat as you pulled up a new browser to get started on a bit of research to track this angel down. “What am I looking for?”

“Well, when you torture an angel, it screams, and that kind of pain, it creates a ripple effect of strange incidents.” Cas explained. You began typing in something into the search bar and waited for a moment until the results came up. While the angel patiently for you to do your own research, he noticed that something was off about the dynamics. “Where’s Sam?”

“Sam’s gone.” Dean informed the angel about the change. You for a moment when you heard him deliver the news, which was only half of it. You refrain yourself from adding more to the story, knowing you had a feeling Cas would be able to pick up more along the way. This wasn’t the first time the brothers went their separate ways. “It’s all right. We’ll find Alfie ourselves.”

“Right.” You mumbled. “Because the last time the three of us worked together it ended so well.“

You decided that it wouldn’t hurt to give the brothers some space to work out their differences and realize what kind of horrible mistake they were about to make. It worked like a charm last time. But it took you and Dean to be hurled five years into the future and the impending doom of the apocalypse to realize the three of you were a family that needed to stick together. You felt a wave of morning sickness hit you like it always did after you woke up. It made you wonder if the secret you were still keeping from them would help put their differences aside. Or tear the family apart for good.

\+ + +

You had to admit, you were having your doubts about how well this search and rescue missing was going to go for Samandriel now that the younger was out of the picture for the meantime. You were trying to respect his wishes to have some space between the both of you while he worked out what he needed and get over the terrible thing you had done. But you were resisting the urge each time to call him and beg for him to at least come back whenever you reached for your phone. You didn’t like the idea of him sitting all alone in that motel room just sulking and thinking about the good, old days he had with this Amelia woman. Maybe she had saw him again and found out he was in town, making them both wonder if they should try it again. Either way, you didn’t feel right about it.

However you had more important things to worry about than two fighting brothers and the fate of the future. You were in Nebraska with Dean and Cas as your third partner to fill in for the missing brother. Not that he was going to be any good, you bit your tongue and focused on finding Cas’ own missing brother. You lightly tapped on the hospital room wall that was being occupied by the man who came in contact with the burning bush that landed him in the ICU with severe third degree burns all over his body. You politely smiled as you tried not to wince at the sight of him lying in the bed with skin that looked raw and nasty, not to mention gauze all over his wounds.

“Mr. Hinckley? Hi, uh, we’re from the Geneva Gazette.” You introduced yourself to the man as you and Dean stepped inside, showing off your visitor pass you got from the nurses’ station. Nothing a suit and a nice blouse could trick anyone into thinking who you were someone important. “I wanted to ask you a few questions about your…uh—”

“Ambush.” Dean said, coming up with the pun he’d been dying to use since reading the article for himself. Your face dropped when you heard his tasteless joke and turned to him to giving him a scolding glare. The man chuckled quietly as he shrugged his shoulders. “You know what they say, laughter is the best medicine.”

“Yeah, well…I’d laugh, too,” Mr. Hinckley said between clenched teeth, finding it hard to move his mouth from all the gauze wrapped around his head. And the burns around his body made it painful, too. “If it didn’t feel like the sun ate my face.”

Dean winced slightly when he realized that he might have been a bit insensitive, you mouthed an apology as you gave him another small smile. “It’s a metaphor.” Cas whispered to you, as if he was making it clear the man wasn’t being too literal here.

“Sorry. Uh, Now,” You pulled out a small notepad and a pen to help jot down some notes that would be helpful for future reference as you got to the reason why you were here. “In the police report, it said that the bush talked to you, yes?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but, yeah.” Mr. Hinckley said, slightly nodding his head. 

“And what did it say?” Cas asked the man.

“No clue.” Mr. Hinckley admitted. “Sounded like klingon to me.”

"Gonna need exact words.” Dean told the man.

If Mr. Hinckley could raise his eyebrows, you had a feeling he would. But there was nothing left but a pinkish red muscle that moved ever so slightly from the request. “Are you serious?”

Cas didn’t understand rhetorical questions, he thought the man was being literal. The angel leaned over slightly to stare at you and the older Winchester to examine your facial expressions to make sure you were. “That’s their serious expression, yes.”

You attempted to refrain yourself from rolling your eyes in annoyance, covering it up with another smile as Dean quietly chuckled. “As much as you can remember, Mr. Hinckley,” You said to the man. “It would be very helpful.”

“Sounded something like…’Sol-voch.’” Mr. Hinckley remembered. “Yeah. ‘Sol-voch-tay.”

You had studied a lot of languages in your lifetime, but it sounded nothing but like gibberish to you. You thanked the man anyway for his help as you jotted down the word, trying your hardest to sound spell it out in your head before making your way out. You made your way out into the hall as you tucked the notepad back into your pocket, passing by a nurse and a doctor on your way out, who seemed wrapped up in their own business to pay no attention to what you were about to discuss.

“Well, what do you think?” You asked the angel. “Mean anything to you?”

“Yes. It’s Enochian. It means ‘obey.’” Cas explained to you and Dean. You looked at him with a slightly confused expression, wondering why Samanderial would be shouting something about obeying. “I don’t know. But the amount of pain an angel must be in not just to manifest through shrubbery but to burn—Dean, Y/N…we have to find him before it’s too late.” 

"Okay. Okay, well, look, a sign like that—Alfie can’t be too far, right?” Dean thought out loud, stopping for a moment down a deserted part of the hall to discuss the next plan of action. “So we’ll just start at the bush and work our way out.”

“And look for what exactly?” Cas asked the older Winchester. “Crowley could have him anywhere.”

“Well, if we know Crowley, the place will be swarming with demons,” You suspected the king of hell and his obsession with keeping as many meatsuits out for his protection as possible. “So we’ll just drive until we see their ugly faces.”

\+ + +

While the plan sounded like a good one, the execution resulted in the three of you spending the rest of the afternoon driving around Geneva looking for anything that seemed like a perfect hideout for a king of hell to torture an angel. Your guess was an abandoned warehouse of some sort that left him a few miles from civilization to do his dirty work. But it was starting to look like a dead end when Dean pulled up to yet another factory that had been abandoned for years. Yet another factory came into view when you spotted it from the backseat of the Impala, giving Cas the luxury of sitting up front since Dean banned the angel’s ability to pop the three of you from one place to another.

“Wow, will you look at that? Our ninth abandoned factory. Ain’t that America?” Dean remarked as he put the Impala into park, presuming all of you were only going to be here for a few minutes. “Hey, what do you guys say, this doesn’t pan out, we head back to that beer-and-bacon happy hour about a mile back, huh?”

“Wait a minute, Dean. Those derelicts, they’re demons.” Cas said. “I can see their true faces.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly as you leaned forward in your seat to see if you might be able to get a better view as Dean grabbed a pair of binoculars to see things more clearly. He spotted three men that looked like nothing more than a few homeless men trying to stay warm around a fire, along with another one on the roof, probably for lookout for any approaching hunters trying to foil his plan.

“Crowley’s got that many hell monkey’s outside, he’s got to have at least double.”

“And angel warding.” Cas added more to the list of problems. “I can feel it.”

“Well, it looks like the three of us and the demon knife aren’t going to cut it.” You said, knowing this was going to be more complicated than you were hoping for. But it wouldn’t be if someone was still here with you like he should be. You looked over at the older Winchester from what you mentioned next. “Hmm. If only we had some extra backup to help us out. I wonder who…”

“I’ll get Sam.” The angel offered.

“No. We don’t need Sam.” Dean said, stopping Cas from vanishing out of sight and grabbing his little brother, the last person he wanted to see at the moment. You gave the man an annoyed expression as the angel opened his mouth to reference the point you made, but Dean cut him off. “Look, if Sam wanted in, he’d be here, okay? Besides, I got a better idea.”

\+ + +

Dean’s brilliant plan involved someone that wasn’t Sam, but another person you hadn’t seen in a few weeks after you got him somewhere safe, Kevin Tran. He’d been hiding out from the monsters and civilization to try and translate the demon tablet, or the half that you got away with after Crowley took the other. You and Dean got to Garth’s boathouse, with the help of Cas, in just a simple blink of an eye. While you didn’t have the pleasure of seeing Garth’s boathouse, you weren’t sure exactly what to expect when you found yourself standing on the inside. You looked around to see that it was decent enough for the time being, and from the looks of it, Kevin made himself at home. You spotted the prophet sitting at the table with his back to you, too involved in the work to realize he had visitors.

“Slow read?” You greeted the prophet, breaking his concentration away from his work. You gave him a small smile when he turned around in his seat to see who was speaking to him. However you felt the friendly gesture drop slightly when you noticed how badly Kevin looked.

“Slowest.” Kevin replied back.

Dean looked around the place to see that it sounded pretty quiet, rather surprised to see the lanky hunter who was supposed to be keeping an eye on the prophet wasn’t around here trying to greet him with a hug. “Where’s Garth?”

“Supply run? I don’t know. Sort of lost track of him when he comes and goes.” Kevin said. He turned back around in his seat to try and get back to translating the piece of stone. “You guys need help with something? I’m working here.”

Cas, who had been observing Kevin for a moment, spoke about his concerns about the prophet in the most blunt way possible. “You look horrible.”

“Cas. How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t say the first thing that comes to mind.” You muttered to the angel, giving him a look at the remark. Kevin didn’t seem bothered too much by it, brushing it off with a thanks before trying to get back to work. While Cas had said it, you were thinking about it, too. You noticed that Kevin looked like he hadn’t slept much, along with taking any time for some personal hygiene. “I mean, he’s right. Are you okay, Kevin?”

“Fine. I’m just…in the middle of this.” Kevin said. You let out a quiet sigh from what was going on with him and the stress that he must be under. Dean asked if there was any luck as he started to walk towards the prophet. “Interpreting half a demon tablet? No. I got nothing.”

“All right, well, buck up,” Dean said, jumping straight into the reason why the three of you were here in the first place. “‘Cause we need some more of that demon TNT ASAP.”

“You used it all?” Kevin asked, turning around in his seat to look up at the hunter.

“Yeah,” Dean said, not seeing what the big deal was. “So let’s whip up another batch.”

“Sure. West bank witch hazel, skull of Egyptian calf, the tail of some random-ass newt that may or may not be extinct—” Kevin said, listing off only a few of the ingredients that all of you would need to complete the spell. You realized that this might be harder than you expected, and struck a sensitive nerve in the young man from asking him to do another favor.

“All right, all right, I get it—ingredients are hard to come by, huh?” Dean cut off the prophet, getting the picture that this wasn’t going to be easy as he thought.

“That’s just the first three ingredients.” Kevin told the hunter.

“Give me the list.” Cas said. “I’ll get what we need.”

Kevin went silent for a moment as he stared at the three of you, making it seem as if he was contemplating on helping. A second later you saw him rolling his eyes and turning to a fresh page in his notebook, writing down every ingredient that Cas would need to get in order to make the demon bomb. You watched the angel disappear right after he got the list, starting off his shopping extravaganza. You and Dean were left back on the boat with Kevin to kill the time until he got back. Kevin had translating to keep himself occupied while you decided to see how it was going as you wandered around the place, quiet as possible to keep from distracting Kevin. Dean had no concept of that.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest as you stared at some scribbles taped to the wall, trying to make sense of it. Dean paced back and forth, waving his arms back and forth, clapping them together. You didn’t know if it was your anger towards him or the hormones in your body that was making you grow annoyed with the clapping sounds from what Dean was doing. You tried your hardest to block it out, but after only a few seconds, you reached your breaking point.

“Oh my God. Can you stop?” You asked the older man, rolling your eyes to show him how frustrated you were starting to get with him. Dean stopped like how you wanted, but he stared at you with a confused expression, wondering what he did now to get you pissed off. “Would it hurt for you to sit down?”

Dean did what you asked him to do, but it resulted in him starting at you with a look of disbelief, wondering what he did now to piss you off. “You know you’re like a minefield lately. Don’t know what I’m gonna do next to to set you off.”

“Well, maybe if you stopped being so annoying I’d be fine.” You grumbled underneath your breath, rolling your eyes as you moved your gaze away from him to stare off into another part of the boat. Dean gave you an annoyed expression when you weren’t looking. A silence fell between the both of you for a moment before you felt a familiar churning of your stomach, making you realize what was about to happen. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked you.

You barely managed to take two steps before you stopped in your tracks at the question. You inhaled a deep breath from his annoying attitude that seemed to be getting even more under your skin. “To the bathroom.” You said. You managed to leave out the offer if he wanted to hold your hair while you puke your guts out because of his unborn child that was starting to be annoying as their father. “Do you want to join me?”

“No, I don’t want to join you.” Dean said, mocking your question as he rolled his eyes. You returned the gesture as you continued walking again to find out where Garth had somewhere to hide out for a few minutes. Dean looked down at his watch to see what the time was and how much longer the angel was going to be while he gathered up supplies. “I mean, come on. How long does it take to get a calf skull from Egypt?”

Kevin worked for a few seconds longer before he found his curiosity peeking at the argument he hear between the both of you. He dropped his pen to the notebook filled with his writing and turned around in his chair. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean said. “Shoot, kid.”

“Are you and Y/N married?” Kevin asked, Dean’s face scrunched up slightly as his lips stretched into a smile. When he answered no, the kid replied back with a blunt remark that he knew why he was really asking. “Well, you sure argue like an old married couple. And it’s kind of distracting from what I’m doing.”

“You know what—get back to work.” Dean ordered to the prophet. Kevin was already doing just that before he heard the command from the hunter. He slipped on a pair of noise cancelling headphones and turned on his music, drowning out the distractions around him. Dean narrowed his eyes slightly as he approached the kid, wondering if he could hear him after he called out his name. He snapped his fingers at each side of Kevin’s head, but he got no response. He felt a smirk spread across his lips as he bent down close to him. “Your mom’s hot.” Dean thought that would surely get a rise out of the kid, but the compliment about his mother went unnoticed. “I’m serious, your mom is one sexy—”

“What are you doing?” Dean felt himself flinch at the sound of your voice, making him realize that he wasn’t alone anymore. He turned around slightly to see you standing right behind him, a dirty glare on your face from how he was talking about Mrs. Tran. "You know you’re a pig, right?”

"I just said she was hot—and saying that out loud, I know how that sounds.” Dean suddenly realized that he wasn’t doing anymore favors of lingering on the subject. “Seriously? What the hell is your problem? You’ve been walking around with a stick shoved so far up your ass since we left Texas.”

You furrowed your brow slightly form his question as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Good thing you’re cute. Because smarts is obviously not in the cards today for you.” You said. Dean took his turn to give you an annoyed glare at the jab you gave him. You rolled your eyes when you heard a phone start ringing. Dean realized that it was his, and pulling it out, you saw his facial expression change slightly from the name that he saw. And you knew exactly who it was. “Speak of the vampire. Might want to get that. See what kind of favor Benny needs this time.” 

Dean didn’t say anything. He turned his attention to his ringing phone and answered it, brushing past you as he stepped out for a moment to have the conversation in private. You let out a quiet sigh as you made your way over to Kevin, who had tried to block out the world from his headphones. You disrupted him by lightly tapping on them, grabbing his attention. You couldn’t help but ask about Mrs. Tran at the thought of her now.

“Where is your mom?” You asked him. Kevin lifted up one of the headphones to simply say that she was somewhere safe. Part of you was a bit taken back at what he had done to his own mother. “You kicked your mom to the curb?”

“She was too distracting. I couldn’t focus.” Kevin admitted to you. He took off his headphones and dropped them to the table as he continued talking. “The angels said I had to go to the desert to learn the word of God, all right? So…this is my desert.”

"Yeah, but your mom’s your mom.” You said.

“I can’t enjoy a world I need to save, Y/N. I can enjoy it when this is all over with.” Kevin said. You felt yourself staring at him with empathy at the pressure he was under as he held the piece of rock that was the reason why he was here in the first place. And his density according to God. “For right now…there’s nothing more important than this.” 

You felt yourself growing with concern as you pulled out the seat across from him and sat down. You placed out your hand to make him put down the tablet. Just because he pushed his mom away didn’t mean you weren’t going to stop looking out after him. “Kev, Rome wasn’t built in a day. We know it’s gonna be a while until we make some progress. And that’s okay.” You told him. “But what’s not okay is you ignoring basic needs like eating a proper meal and sleeping. Don’t become obsessed with this thing. Take some time for yourself every once in a while. Because, honestly, you do look like crap.“

Kevin scoffed underneath his breath from your jab at his appearance, “Thanks, Y/N. It’s been a while since I’ve looked in the mirror.”

“Hey, if I’m being honest here…” You looked around the boat to see that it was still just you and him so you could tell him how you really felt. “This isn’t worth dying over. And I want you to enjoy your hard work when we do get there. You’re still young, Kevin. You have your whole life ahead of you after all of this is done. No matter how long it does end up taking. But you can’t kill yourself trying to make it happen. Breaks were invented for a reason. Take one every once in a while, will you?”

You hoped what you said to the prophet might be helpful to him about not making the same mistakes you had made while becoming obsessed with solving a problem. Kevin nodded his head as you let him get back to work. It seemed that your motherly instincts were kicking into high gear early. Not only you did you have to watch over two grown men and an angel, you found yourself now looking over a prophet, making sure all of them didn’t do anything too self destructive to screw things up for themselves.At least with the boys fighting it was getting you prepared for the many temper tantrums your and Dean’s child was bound to have. Because your patience was sure being tested lately.

\+ + +

Some more time passed while you waited for Cas to return with all the ingredients, you found a book to occupy your time while Kevin got back to work trying to decipher the tablet. Dean kept his mouth busy by snacking on some chips he found while continuing to look over the notes that Kevin taped all over the boat. You were a few pages into the book of lore Garth must have kept here to be of some use for Kevin when you heard the familiar sound of rustling feathers. You looked up from the book, expecting to see Cas back from his trip around the world, and he was. Along with someone else.

“I got what we need.” Cas informed the three of you.

“Oh, it’s about time.” Dean said, looking over at the angel. He saw a familiar face, one of his little brother, standing across from the boat. You let out a quiet sigh as you shut the book, having a feeling this was going to be more awkward than helpful. "What’s he doing here?”

“Don’t worry, Dean.” Sam reassured his brother that he wasn’t sticking around for long. “Once we save Alfie, I’m out.”

“Oh, once ‘we’ save Alfie. Don’t hurt yourself, Sam. Cas, Y/N and I can handle it.” Dean said, making it quite clear that he didn’t want the other man around here. Sam shot back at him, mentioning that the angel didn’t think so. Dean ignored the remark, keeping his focus on the angel who brought the unwanted man here. “I told you we didn’t need him.”

“We need everything, Dean.” Cas told the older Winchester. It seemed the angel was growing tiresome of the fighting between the both of them as you were. “And I need both of you, as you say, to stow your crap. Can you do that?”

It was the question that had yet to be answered. You stared at both of the brothers, wondering if their own personal differences were going to get in the way from the work that needed to be done. Having them focus and get to work on the hunt wasn’t the problem. It was what came afterwards that would be.

\+ + +

The four of you headed back to the warehouse where Alfie was being kept by Crowley had his posse of demons that were keeping an eye out on things. The king couldn’t be too safe when making sure nobody foiled his plans of torturing an angel. Dean pulled up into an alley not too far from the building so it would give all of you some privacy to go through the plan one more time before you and the boys snuck your way in there. You got out of the backseat along with Cas, joining the boys to discuss everything before you went your separate ways from the angel due to the warding that was passed off as graffiti from the years of abandonment.

“So, there are four main points of warding—north, south, east and west—and four Enochian symbols, like this,” Cas explained what all of you should be looking for. He pulled out a marker from his trench coat pocket so he could draw the symbol in the palm of your hand for guidance. “that you need to destroy before I can enter.”

“Okay, so, what?” Dean asked the angel, wanting to get this straight. “We go in, take care of the hell mooks, and you extract the angel?”

“Yes.” Cas said. You watched as his expression slowly changed into a regretful one as he spoke of the choices he made a few years before. “After killing so many, I need to save one.”

The angel’s motives, from what you could tell, were about doing good in this world from the fellow brothers and sisters he harmed and the people he was sworn to look after. All of you did a lot of stupid things in your life that had negative effects that still haunted you, and while you didn’t particularly enjoy the company of angels and demons, nobody deserved to be in the clutches of that prick some called a king. You didn’t need a reason to take down some demons and help someone who tried to return the favor not too long ago. Cas proved that not all angels were dicks, and, sometimes, they needed a helping hand.

“Sounds like a plan.” You muttered, shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay.” Dean said, pulling out the demon killing knife from his jacket. “Let’s do this.”

“Wait. Here.” Cas spoke up, stopping you and the boys from heading inside without some more precaution when he noticed there was only one knife to go around for the three of you. You furrowed your brow slightly in confusion when you noticed Cas pulled out his angel blade, something you had seen only work against his own kind. But it seemed the thing had one more than one use. He gave to Sam for him to take. “It doesn’t just work on angels. It kills demons, too.”

“You don’t have another one on them on you, by chance?” You asked the angel, hoping you weren’t going into this fight with nothing more than a can of spray paint and the demon bomb Kevin helped make for you. When the angel shook his head, you let out a sigh, but you weren’t going to discourage you from going in there. Like a true hunter, you knew how to defend yourself with the simplest things. And what you had sure could harm a couple of demons, too. “Well, guess if anyone comes near me, I’ll just…spray straight in their eyes.“

You knew getting inside was going to be the easy part of this hunt after sneaking around the premise without any of Crowley’s many goons dressed as homeless men caught you. While one of them was making his rounds around the grounds again, he was only a few yards away from his buddies before he found himself stopping in his tracks when something slightly suspicious caught his attention. A distant whistling sound not too far from where he stood rang in his ears, and it sounded like it was coming from around the corner. The demon turned around and began walking, following the noise to the back entrance of the building to see someone he was warned to keep an eye out for. Your lips stretched into a smile when you saw the demon flash his black eyes at you, as if that was supposed to scare you. You greeted him with a wave as you stalled him just long enough for what was about to happen next.

The demon had no clue someone was behind him before he felt something sharp being shoved into his backside, killing him instantly in the same fashion you’d seen dozens of times before with Ruby’s knife. Sam pulled out the angel blade and let the body fall to the ground. You raised your brow slightly in surprise at how well it worked. And how stupid the demon was to fall for a trick you’d used plenty of other times to rouse his kind out, only to be ambushed and killed.

“Well, not my most original work, but…I’m happy that my services are useful when needed.” You said, providing a smirk to the boys when worked on getting the keys from the demon to help unlock the entrance and threw them in your direction since you were standing on top of the staircase and right next to the door.

You slipped the key into the lock and made your way inside the building to discover it was poorly lit and almost dark as it was outside, but you and the boys were able to see your surroundings. All of you made it inside and began heading north, waiting to find the first symbol Cas had drawn on your palm to destroy it. You cautiously peered over the corner as you were about to head down another hall, when you saw that the coast was clear, you looked to see there was a full wall of all sorts of graffiti, but there was one in particular that you recognized.

Grabbing the boys’ attention, you pulled out the spray can from your jacket pocket and began to quietly shake it, getting it ready as you approached the symbol. You sprayed an X on the wall and over the symbol to destroy whatever power it had against Cas. One was taken down, but all of you still had three more to go. You and Dean headed west as Sam went south to continue your search for the rest of the symbols. There wasn’t too many demons crawling around on the inside from what you could tell, but you still proceeded with caution when you crept out from each corner, following behind Dean as the both of you continued on your search.

It wasn’t too long after you found another one to take down, and by your guess, Sam must have found another one. Which meant that all of you still had just one more to find. The both of you continued on your quest to finding the other one before making your way back to the younger man, but as you made your way further down the hall, it seemed that you were closer to Sam than you realized. You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard an echoing sound coming from somewhere behind you, almost like someone was in a fight. You didn’t think twice about it before you started to follow it when you go the feeling Sam was in trouble.

Sam had found himself in a bit of trouble after finding another one of the symbols. He had managed to take down a demon, but he had a friend who followed behind and was now trying to strangle the man from behind. You shook the can of spray paint and shouted just loud enough to get the demon’s attention. And it seemed that he was stupid enough to leave Sam to take care of you. But before he could even lay a finger on you, you brought up the spray paint and doused him right in the eyes, stunning him long enough for Dean to come up from behind and stabbed the demon with the knife, killing him and throwing him to the ground with his buddy.

Sam stood up straight as he managed to catch his breath after being nearly choked to death by the now dead demon. You gave the younger man a smile before his attention lingered over to his older brother. Sam mumbled a thank you for what you and his brother did, Dean replied with a command for the both of you to start walking. You rolled your eyes and followed behind the two men as they started to head off to find the last symbol and Alfie.

As the three of you continued your search through the warehouse, you were slightly startled when you heard the echoing screams of pain, making you realize that it must have been Alfie. The angel was closer than you thought. But the closer you got to the prized possession, the more goons Crowley was going to have surrounding him to make it harder. But not impossible. While you saw the shadows of two demons heading from around the corner and another two heading in your direction, neither one of you needed to lift a finger to defend yourself thanks to the nifty demon bombs that Kevin had discovered while reading the tablet.

You lit one up and threw it hard as you could down the hall as Sam did the same to the other from around the corner. You saw the bomb go flying across the floor, and without warning, like any other destructive device, it exploded with a loud noise and a burst of light. You waited a few moments before you lowered your arms back down to see what kind of damage it had done. The demons were gone, nothing more than a black outline of their last position was what remained. It seemed you found your new favorite weapon to use against these hell spawns, even though it was a pain in the ass to make. But tey sure were effective than some knife.

The three of you went on your way again, following the painful screams of Alfie without any more demons to stop you. You spotted a red door just down the hall you were walking, and of course, another symbol, the last one. You wasted no time in marking it, destroying the warding that kept Cas from entering. Now he was free to come in, yet he was taking a little longer than you expected. You looked around the hall as you let out a quiet sigh at the continued screams of Alfie that were bringing you to a time that you tried not to think too much about. When you were still a half demon, spending your free time torturing monsters with Crowley.

“All right,” You muttered underneath your breath. “Anytime now, Cas.”

It seemed the angel had gotten the memo, but when you turned around to try and find him, only to discover he was right behind you. However you saw him look sluggish and weak, making you worried that you might have screwed something up. “It must be the sigils.” Cas said, inhaling a deep breath as he looked around at the walls spray painted with all sorts of familiar enochian that was having a negative effect on him. “I’m not at full power.”

“Sam, help me muss this crud.” Dean said, pulling out another one of the demon bombs to take down the door and get to Crowley.

“No, wait! There’s no time.” Cas stopped the hunter from doing such thing, knowing it wouldn’t be efficient enough from the window of opportunity that was getting smaller each second passed. “Samandriel won’t last much longer.”

You fetched out the keys you got from the demon to see it might work here as Sam handed back the angel blade Cas had given him, thinking it might be useful for him. You forced every key on the ring into the lock, but nothing worked. You let out a frustrated sigh as you slammed your hand against the heavy metal door. Dean attempted to use his strength by opening up the door by the handle, but it proved to be of no use. You stepped back as you tried to think of another way to get this damn thing down before it was too late.

It seemed you weren’t the only one unsettled by Alfie’s screams, when you looked over your shoulder to see how Cas was doing, you found him suddenly cowering in fear. Your face fell as you quickly headed over to him as he found himself being affected by the torture that Crowley was doing. He was backing himself against the wall and covering his hands with his ears, picking up some kind of noise that was undetected to the human eye. You crouched down to his level as you tried to somehow to get Cas to focus while Dean worked on getting the door open.

“All right.” Dean said. “Plan ‘B.’”

“We have a ‘Plan B’?” Sam asked his brother, watching as the man began to take a few steps to get started on the next plan of action he didn’t know about.

Dean went running forward and slammed his body against the door, thinking he might be able to break it down that way. Your head quickly snapped forward from what you just heard. It seemed that Sam decided the plan wasn’t so stupid after all when he rammed himself against the door, but it barely budged. You watched for a moment as both of the brothers began working together, running and throwing themselves repeating against the metal door. It was almost like the both of them weren’t fighting just a few days before when they worked together in perfect sync, using their strength to their advantage. You turned your attention back to Cas, hoping you might be able to break him out of whatever was happening to him.

“Cas, hey, can you hear me?” You spoke to the angel as you placed both of your hands on his shoulders in some attempt for him to focus on you. You shook him slightly as you continued on trying to rouse him back into reality, but nothing was working. The boys were well over six feet tall and weighed at least twice as you, but even they could only throw themselves against the door for so long before it became tiresome. “Cas! Come on, stay with me.”

You inhaled a deep breath as you looked back at the door again to see the boys were starting to make some progress as it jumped closer, like it was about to break open any second now. You quickly looked back at the angel as you began to give him some tough love, shaking him hard as you could, nearly yelling at him to come back into reality. But nothing was working, so, being the good friend that you were, decided you were out of options. You reached up your hand and braced for the impact of pain that you were about to feel. You hauled off and back handed the angel right across the cheek, so hard you saw his head in the direction of the blow.

“Ow! Son of a bitch!” You hissed underneath your breath, shaking the hand that was starting to ache as you saw the red hand cheek mark start to form on Cas’ cheek. Before you could let him slip away again, you grabbed him by the collar of his trench coat so he was looking directly at you from what you were about to yell in his face. “Snap out of it!”

You let go of him as you waited for Cas to try and slip back into whatever sort of trance he was being kept under, but it seemed your violent outburst pulled him back into reality. And just in time. You quickly looked over your shoulder to see the boys had gotten the door open. You pushed yourself up to your feet and helped Cas as well while the boys headed inside to put a stop to Crowley’s sick torture. While the king bailed out before the real fun could begin, he left behind his assistant, along with a very broken and beaten Alfie. Dean found himself going up against the demon dressed in a white lab coat as Sam found himself busy trying to take down one of the remaining demons. You focused your efforts of what you were here for.

You winced in discomfort when you took a second to examine the angel that was covered in his vessel’s own blood, some poor kid working a job that ended up being jumped by an angel, only to be tortured by the king of hell. You noticed there was some sort of strange metal head piece Crowley had put on his head, as if he was manually drilling rods into the angel’s brain to extract all sorts of information. You found yourself momentarily frozen, unsure of what you were supposed to do. Cas got to work, unscrewing one of the thin silver rods from Alfie’s head, followed suit, tenderly turning one back until you pulled it out slowly as possible, hoping you weren’t causing him anymore pain.

 

“And here I thought lobotomies were inhumane.” You found yourself muttering underneath your breath. Seeing Alfie like this, along with the smell of this place, was starting to make your stomach feel queasy again. However you worked through the discomfort as you and Cas worked getting the contraption off the angel’s head. When you got the angel free, you looked over to see how the boys were going. Sam was still currently fighting off the one demon as Dean was now on the ground, trying to stab the other demon as he choked him. “Guys, anytime you want to wrap up your little fight up!”

Dean managed to take control of the situation when the man he was up against got momentarily distracted by your voice. He slammed off the arm that was wrapped around his neck and punched him directly in face, making the demon become frazzled just long enough to help out his brother. You watched as Sam threw a punch of his own and kicked the demon he was fighting, making him stumble back slightly as Dean stabbed the monster from behind. You let out a quiet “hmph” noise at how the brothers were working so well together. It was…refreshing. And it showed that no amount of hatred towards each other could stop the bond they had and the skills crafted over the years of hunting together.

“Wait! I know—I know things.” The remaining demon tried to beg for mercy as he lifted up his hands in defeat when he saw Dean coming towards him again with the knife. You headed over to him and the boys to see all of this play out for yourself. Now that Alfie was free, Cas didn’t waste a second vanishing from sight when the older Winchester gave him the go ahead to get him and his brother out of danger. You looked back down at the demon when he smiled slightly, as if you were going to let him live if he sweet talked you enough. “Good, good. There’s so much you don’t know. You need me.”

“I don’t know. What do you think, boys? Think we could keep him around?” You pretended to take a second to think over the proposition as you looked over at the brothers to keep the demon’s hopes up that he was going to make it out alive. You looked back down at the demon and gave him a smirk when he looked so optimistic. “Yeah. I don’t think so.”

Dean wasted no time in stabbing the demon with the knife, killing him like the rest of the goons Crowley used to his own personal benefit, but ended up like the rest, dead. You knew he had to be the last one around here, which meant it would be no problem getting out of here. You and the boys headed out of the warehouse and to wherever Cas had ended up with Alfie. The both of them couldn’t have gone too far, and it seems you were right when you found the two angels besides the Impala, crouched down on the ground. You slowed down your pace as you ran behind the boys, only to discover Cas hovering over a very still looking Alfie. You furrowed your brow slightly in concern from what was going on.

“Cas! What the hell happened?” Sam asked the angel.

The angel, who had appeared like he was holding his fellow brother in a mournful way, lifted his head up to answer the question. “He was compromised.” He informed the three of you. As he pushed himself up to his feet, your eyes wandered to the bloodied angel blade that he was holding. “He came at me. I killed him in self-defense.”

You didn’t know why, but you felt as if the angel’s excuse didn’t add up from what he said before. Alfie was almost too gone for him to be doing anything, maybe it was the torture that made him that way. But you knew there was no way that he could have done such a thing. And the look in Cas’ eyes when he spoke…you saw it back in the warehouse, it was like he was lost in his own thoughts. Almost like he was in a trance. You felt your concern grow even more when you saw what appeared to be a smidge of crimson red in the corner of his eye, almost as if he was crying blood.

“Cas,” You spoke the angel’s name as you asked him a question, even though you had a feeling you already the answer was going to be a lie. “Are you okay?”

The angel seemed to realize the blood seeping out from his eye when he reached up to wipe it away and inspect it for himself. “My vessel must have been damaged in the melee. I have to go. Samandriel’s remains belong in Heaven.” Cas crouched down again so he was at Alfie’s level, as if he was getting ready to leave. You tried to get him to stay, but it seemed there was no way of breaking him free from whatever was going on. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done.”

And that was it. In the blink of an eye, you saw Cas disappear from your sight. You felt yourself starting to grow nervous with fear as you started to look around you, wondering if he was somehow still around here. But he was gone. The angel who made it quite clear who wanted to do good, who wouldn’t hurt anyone—not even his own brother and sisters—had went back on his word. And the way he was acting made you worried. Something was going on with him, something awful.

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys were back at the cabin, and you were still feeling on edge from what you witnessed just hours ago. You kept thinking about every private conversation you had with him, to every action Cas made since coming back from purgatory. He was the only one close to you who knew about the baby, besides Crowley and Benny. Crowley was too wrapped up in his own business to presume you were much of a threat from his lack of effort to seek you out like you feared. And Benny knew you’d hunt him down and kill him yourself if he dared so speak a word of your secret. Seeing Cas like you had did last night, it left you with a handful of questions you thought you’d never have to worry about.

There was no denying that there was something off about him. He was acting too robotic, like someone as feeding him lines and pulling on his strings like a puppet, mimicking his actions so he did what they wanted. You started to wonder if he had been like that since he got back from purgatory and you didn’t notice. since how long you had been away from him. Cas had always been a bit awkward and unsure of human manners. But he was far too different. And his actions against Alfie were questionable. He said so himself that he needed to save his fellow brother.

Sam at least helped your nervous mind of Cas coming back here when he spray painted the same symbol Crowley had used to keep the angel out on the front door. You stood in the main area with Dean as the both of you watched the younger man finish up the paint job. Now you were safe from angels and demons. But you still didn’t feel all that safe. You crossed your arms over your chest as you let out heavy sigh from everything that was going on.

“Okay. That should do it.” Sam said. “Cas can’t see our hear us now.”

“Okay, what the hell?” Dean asked the both of you, obviously shocked himself from what he saw last night. Sam mumbled an agreement with the man as you nodded your head, all of you on the same page at how this felt bad for your fellow friend. “I told you something was off with him since he got back from purgatory.”

“So, what, you think someone’s messing with him or something?” You asked both of the boys, proposing a possible theory you’d been thinking about since getting back. “Angels, maybe?”

Dean gave you a slightly confused expression, seeming to believe it didn’t make much sense to him. “Why would the angels have him kill another angel?”

“Honestly, who the hell knows anymore?” You answered his question with another. You let out yet another sigh as you rubbed your eyes with both of your hands, trying to resist the exhaustion you were starting to feel from all the stressful crap and lack of sleep you had been getting over the past few days. “Look, guys, I’m gonna go lie down for a little while. I’m just…not feeling so good.”

You knew, despite everything that happened yesterday, the boys were still on bad terms with each other and leaving them together in the same room might cause another fight. But you didn’t care. They were grown adults, sooner or later they were going to have to realize they both had different opinions and didn’t want the same things. You said what you had to say, now it was up to them to see where things headed. You gave both of them a smile before heading into the bedroom, needing to be alone for a while.

You shut the door behind you, but instead of crawling into bed like you wanted, you stared at it while you leaned against the wooden door. The conversation you had with Sam lingered in the back of your head, and the urge to tell him about what you wanted to gnawed at you for attention.

A pause of silence fell between the brothers for a moment as Dean found himself looking towards the shut bedroom door. He had a lot to think about these few days, things that put his mind into perspective. “You know what, man? Y/N and I got this.” Dean told his brother. Sam found himself staring at his brother, unsure of why he was kicking him out so soon and at a time like this. “Don’t you have a girl to get back to?”

“Yeah. I guess I do.” Sam mumbled. In that moment he suddenly remembered about the woman he saw just before being pulled back into this hunt, who he spent a night with like old times. He looked up at his brother with a slightly confused expression when he noticed that Dean didn’t show any sign of resentment to the woman. But a calm, blank expression. “Since when are you on the Amelia bandwagon?”

“I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about what I did. And I realized it was a dick move. You wouldn’t do something like that to me if it was Y/N. And I’m just tired of all the fighting.” Dean admitted to his brother about how he felt. He headed over to the fridge to grab himself a beer. “And, you know, maybe I’m a…little bit jealous. I could never separate myself from the job like you could. Well, maybe it’s time for at least one of us to be happy and settle down with a chick.”

"What, you’re not happy with Y/N?” Sam found himself asking.

“I am. Every second I’m with her, even when she’s screaming at me. But…it’s not like what you and Amelia have. Y/N and I aren’t the settling down type. We make it work. Yet,” Dean twisted off the top from the beer bottle and threw it into the sink before leaning himself against the fridge to admit a fear of his to his brother the both of them shared. “Half the time I’m worried about something that could go wrong. I love her too much to let that happen. And…she made me realize that it’d be fair not to let you have that chance. You deserve to be happy.”

"What, you being with Y/N make you a softie and a big hugger?” Sam joked with his brother. He knew the man almost never let his walls down anyone to let himself fall for anyone or show his true feelings. Except for you. The younger man noticed that Dean was a different person when it was just the two of you, the both of you looked…happy, head over heels in love. And Sam could have that too if he really wanted. “She does make me happy, and she could be waiting for me if I went back. I’d be a very lucky man if she was. But now,with everything staring down at us, with all that’s left to be done…I don’t know.”

“Huh.” Dean found himself rather surprised at what his brother admitted to him. It wasn’t what he expected to hear. “Well, I do know this—whatever you decide…decide. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Both feet in or both feet out. Anything in between is what gets you dead.”

“Yeah, I keep hearing that.” Sam muttered. He fell silent for a moment at how the both of them, in the first time since they were reunited, they were having a civilized about the future. Sam also knew that he was at a crossroads that was coming for a while now about which way he should go. Stay on the path to be with his family, or turn his back on everything he knew to spend the rest of his life with the woman that he loved. For the first time in his life, Sam found himself stuck on what to do. “I’m gonna…take a walk. Clear my head.”

Dean watched as his brother make his way out the front door to get some air, leaving him alone to think about his own future. He found himself slowly looking over at the shut bedroom door, and what he should have done yesterday morning. Dean set down his beer and made his way to the door, and without hesitating or knocking, he opened up the door to see you lying on the bed. He found himself stopping for a moment just to stare at you to admire how peaceful you looked, and how beautiful he thought you were. And how much he hurt while you were gone, thinking you were never going to come back just a few years before. 

Dean made his way across the room until he was standing over you. When he noticed you were curled up on one side of the bed, he sat himself down so he was was right next to you, doing exactly what he always told you was creeping when you did to it to him on the occasions you woke up before him. He spent a few moments just watching you try and fall asleep. Dean reached out a hand to softly tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, knowing well enough the action would cause you to wake up. You slowly opened up your eyes to see him staring at you with the type of look that made you suddenly feel wide awake.

“Hey,” Dean mumbled. He kept his hand on your face, it moved slowly from your hair and down slightly so he was now softly brushing his thumb across your cheek. You whispered the greeting back to him as you stared at him. “I just wanted to apologize for being a dick to you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You apologized to him. “I know everything is between you and Sam. I thought I was trying to help. But…it’s both of your decisions at the end of the day. I’ll live with whatever you two decide.”

"Sammy and I talked it out. We’re good. He’s thinking about what he needs to do. And I did, too.” He said. You sat up in bed slightly as you popped your body on your elbow to hear what he had to say. “This whole Amelia thing…it made me realize how important family is. Like you said, the kid did a lot for me. So have you. I can’t pick Benny over you two. It’s not fair.”

You fell silent when you figured out what this meant. “Are you sure?”

“It was a long time coming.” He said, trying not to be too upset about it. You gave him a sympathetic smile at the things he was doing, but you knew it was for the right reasons. He let out a quiet sigh, knowing he still had to make the dreaded call. But before Dean did, he leaned over, and ever so softly, pressed your lips against his. You felt yourself getting lost for a moment about your surroundings when Dean pulled you into a passionate, and yet breathtaking, kiss. He pulled away after a few moments, however, his lips lingered over yours as he whispered a few words you rarely heard from him. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” You mumbled back to him.

Dean gave you a small smile as he got himself up from bed so you could get some sleep, but not before giving you a quick peck on the forehead, mumbling the three words yet one more time. You watched as he began walking to the bedroom door. The back of your mind was screaming that this was the perfect opportunity. Sam was gone, he told you that he loved you. You could tell him the good news that you had been keeping a secret from him. But…you overheard the conversation he had with Sam. Well, the part about not being able to separate himself from this lifestyle. You were still so insecure, so worried about the fears that plagued your mind. You had Cas over these past few weeks to reassure you that everything was going to be okay. But he was gone. And you were alone. At least, you thought you were.

You found yourself not in the mood to sleep anymore. You pushed yourself out of bed and snuck out of the cabin while Dean was distracted making the phone call that he didn’t really want to make, but he was doing it for the sake of his brother. The both of them had admitted what they wanted, but not you. You still had something you wanted to tell Sam. Not like it was going to change anything, but you needed to tell him. Once he was gone and made his decision, then you would be kicking yourself not doing this sooner. You couldn’t tell him over the phone or see him again after so long to see that you had either grown drastically, you had a new member of the family he was never told about.

It wasn’t too hard to find Sam, he didn’t stray too far from the cabin, but he was a good distance away so he was in his own private oasis, alone with his own personal thoughts to figure out what he wanted to do. When he heard your approaching footsteps, you greeted the man with a small smile as you slowly walked over to where he was sitting, waiting any second for him to say that he didn’t want you around. But he never did. He moved over slightly on the spot where he was sitting so you could join him.

“Hey,” You greeted the man as you sat down next to him to enjoy the beauty of nature and the sounds it made, from the quiet chirping of birds and the faint breeze that passed by every so often. You looked down at the ground as your shoe began to push around some pine needles, hoping things wouldn’t turn awkward before you got to the reason why you were out here. “I think we need to continue our conversation.” 

“It’s okay.” Sam said. “I understand—“

“No, you don’t. I never told you the real reason why I can’t support you.” You said, cutting off the younger man before he could make up a reason that sounded valid to him. You let out a sigh as you began to tell him the truth you had been keeping from him.. “It’s not that I don’t like her. She sounds like an incredible woman. And if she makes you happy, then you should go to her. Dean was right about one of us getting to live a normal life. I got the chance, but I really don’t want to go back to it. And someone here deserves to get what they want. But…“

Sam knew there was always one of them that came up during situations like this. He kept silent, letting you tell him how you felt. “I can’t support you going off with Amelia because…something made me realize I need you.” You admitted to him, giving him the real reason why you were hesitant to see him ago after all these years together on the road. “Maybe I’m selfish for wanting things to stay the same. You and Dean are the only family I have left. I don’t want to see you go. Because you two are the only family I left left. I mean, Bobby’s gone. There’s something wrong with Cas. If you go, I’m not gonna have anyone else.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked. He felt his lips stretch into a faint smile at your concern, making him wonder if you were afraid something might happen to his brother that might make you end up alone like he had. “You have Dean. He’s not going anywhere. Trust me.”

“No, Sammy…you don’t get it, do you? I told you that you were right about something you accused me of being. Do you remember the fight we were having about what to do with Benny and how you didn’t want me to go along? Well, I was gonna tell you back in Texas, but I got scared. Now I’m not sure when else I’m going to get the chance. And, quite frankly, I’m getting sick and tired of keeping this a secret. And I need to tell someone else before I start going insane.” You said, speaking faster than you brain could comprehend, revealing the truth to the younger Winchester without even saying it. But you still wanted to. As if you were trying to tell yourself again that this was happening. “You were right. I’m…I’m pregnant, Sam." 

You knew once you said those two words there was no going back, Sam was going to react in any way that he saw fit. He could get happy, upset. Scared. But he wasn’t going to change your mind about what you wanted to do. Sam found himself unable to react much at all. He sat there for a long moment, making you try and figure out what was going on in his mind. Was he angry? Nervous? Happy? None of the above? You bit the inside of your cheek as you whispered the man’s name in a nervous tone, wondering if you lost him through everything that was going on. 

Sam blinked as he stared at you, acting as if he didn’t hear one word you just said. "I’m sorry. I thought you said that…You’re…”

Your lips stretched into a forced smile as you told him in a different way that sounded more exciting. “You’re gonna be an uncle, Sammy.” 

The younger man felt himself being thrown into a situation that he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to. Not even twenty minutes ago he was wondering where his life was going to go and who he was going to spend the rest of his life with. And here you went, dropping bomb he had a strange feeling he saw coming. But…there was always a small part of him thought that it was too good to be true. Sam slowly looked down at your stomach. While it looked flat, he remembered all the symptoms he accused you of having not even four days ago. And it was true. It had to be. 

“I’m not telling you this because I think it’s going to make you stay. I’m telling because this,“ You placed a hand against your stomach when you gestured to the baby growing inside of you. The future generation of this family that nobody thought would happen. "is the reason why I can’t support you going off with Amelia. Because this is my happiness. This is my new beginning that I thought was never gonna happen. This thing has been on my mind nonstop since I found out. But you still have to do what you want. Don’t let me hold you back.”

Sam knew well enough that this was game changing news, and even though he had his suspicions, he felt his mind buzzing with all sorts of different emotions of how he should realistically responded to this. But not now. Not when he finally stopped fighting with his brother and things felt the slightest bit okay. He forced himself to stop thinking about Amelia and the future, and what all of this meant for the three of you. For now he wanted to live in the moment and cherish this…well, piece of normality that he thought was never going to happen.

"So…you’re telling me that I was right?” Sam asked you, softly nudging you in the shoulder with his own as his lips stretched into a smirk. “How far along are you?”

You felt yourself let out a sigh of relief from how he was taking the news. It was better than you imagined. “Almost eight weeks. Cas was the one who told me. I kind of figured something was going on when I puked my guts out after seeing Kevin’s cut off pinky finger.”

Sam fell silent as he began to think about the timeline and the events that took place that lead to the prophet getting hurt. It was when Cas got back from purgatory and Kevin was still in the wind while you and the boys did everything to find them. Sam’s facial expression dropped as a lightbulb went off in his head. “Wait, you knew this entire time and you’re still hunting? What if one of those demons hurt you back there? You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Y/N.”

“You think I haven’t been playing it safe? This is

why I didn’t want to tell you. I’m pregnant, Sam, not a helpless little being. Besides, Crowley already knows about the baby. If he wanted me dead, don’t you think he would of sent one of his goons after me?“ You asked the younger Winchester, not realizing what you had let slip out from your mouth. You winced as you shut your eyes. “Wait. You weren’t supposed to find out about that.”

“How the hell did that happen?” Sam asked you.

“He was kind of the one who got the ball rolling on everything.” You admitted to him. “Did you know queen is the term for a pregnant cat?“

Sam stared at you with a confused expression at the random fact you told him. You gave him a small smile as you tried to get him not to be upset with you, and while he wanted to, Sam knew deep down he couldn’t. "Who else knows?”

“Benny, obviously. It was sort of inevitable.” You said. “But that’s it.”

“You told Dean before me?” Sam asked, sounding a little surprise.

“Yeah. Because if you do decide to leave, then I wanted for the both of us to leave on good terms. And if we see each other again for a while you won’t be so surprised that I’m six months pregnant.” You said, cracking a smile at the image of how your body was going to be changing in the next handful of months. However the look of happiness faded as you continued on talking. “And…I’m not sure how Dean’s gonna take the news. You and I got a bit of downtime to just relax. Enjoy the good life. But Dean? His life has just been a mess nonstop. From losing me and Bobby, to spending a year in purgatory. I wanted to wait until things wind down before telling him the news.”

“You think he’s not gonna take it well.” Sam whispered. You felt your gaze move away from the man as you swallowed slightly at how he managed to get straight to an insecurity that crossed your mind a few times over the past few weeks. Sam let out a sigh, knowing that it was only the half of it. "You think he’s not gonna want this.”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want to go back to living the way I used to before I started hunting. I don’t miss it. But do I want to be a mother? More than anything in this world. And yet, I want to settle somewhere. I still want to be a hunter. Because who says we can’t learn from our parents mistakes?” You asked him, knowing you were talking about what he wanted, too. “If you want to live that normal life, go for it. Don’t stop yourself from being happy, Sammy.”

You had finally told him everything that had been on your mind over the past few weeks, and for the first time, you felt good. But still unsure about the future. You gave the younger Winchester a smile as you pushed yourself up to your feet, knowing there was still Sam needed to do and think about. And it was time for him to have his alone time. You headed back to the cabin, knowing you still were tired and in need of that nap. And when you woke up in the next few hours, the fate of the future for the three of you would be revealed. No matter the choice Sam made, you would eventually support him. Like you always had your entire life.

\+ + +

Sam had to think long and hard about what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Ever since he was a kid a normal life was what he wanted. He wanted to get away from the monsters and his drill sergeant of a father. He wanted to go to college, become a lawyer and marry the woman he fell head over heels in love with, Jess. But everything changed in a heartbeat. His life and choices were drastically altered, what he wanted turned into things that were wrong. He made choices that he still regretted, and he tried to love people that suffered a painful fate. It always felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel, but Sam never gave up hope. Because, no matter what, he always had you backing him up. Until last year.

Sam would admit that he felt lost for the first time in his life after everything that happened the year before. The mental torture from Lucifer that drove him insane, seeing the only father figure he had in his entire life die, and not to mention his brother and best friend for an angel disappear. It was all too much for him to handle. Sam, for the first time in his life, was alone. He didn’t have you, his best friend, cheering him on. Telling him to do go good. You were gone. Everyone he loved was…gone. He felt hopeless, like he was never going to feel okay again. Then he met Amelia in the most strangest conditions, and everything seemed to feel right again.

It was like everything he wanted all those years ago were finally coming true. He had a girlfriend he loved, a dog, a place to call his. A life that could end up with them potentially having kids. But all those months were just a fantasy. He knew it was a matter of time until he had to wake up and face reality that he was running from. The both of them were lost souls running from the past. And eventually it caught up to them.

Amelia’s husband wasn’t really dead, and neither were you or Dean. Both of them went their own separate ways for a few months to see how things worked out. It turned out that distance did make the heart grow fonder. Amelia wanted to be with Sam…but he realized that he didn’t want to anymore. Sam couldn’t leave his family and everything that he’d ever known. Not when things were starting to seem like they were going to be a little bit okay. And, honestly, Sam wasn’t sure if he ever would be able to.

Sam came back to the cabin a few hours later after thinking about what he wanted to do. Him and his brother discussed what decision they made. Dean kicked Benny out of his life for good, Sam left Amelia in the empty motel room where they promised to meet. Both of the brothers made sacrifices for the greater good. And for the future of this family. While it hurt now, wounds faded, and there was still so much more good to come.

Sam fixed up dinner for the three of you and went to go knock softly on the bedroom door to see if you were awake while Dean sat on the couch, watching boxing on the TV. He cracked open the door slightly to see the bed was empty, but you were wide awake, standing next to the window as you subconsciously twirled one of the earrings that you always one. The ones that the boys had gotten you for Christmas when you and him thought it was going to be Dean’s last one. When you heard the door open, you turned your head, expecting it to be Dean. But when you saw Sam, you felt your expression drop into complete surprise.

"What are you still doing here?” You found yourself asking him, wondering if he was here to say goodbye. But you didn’t see anything to indicate that he was doing such thing. He shrugged his shoulders as he stepped inside the room, shutting it just so there was a crack left to give you both some privacy. “Are you…staying?”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” Sam said. He gave you a smirk as he walked over to you. You returned the gesture as you rolled your eyes before looking at him with a serious expression, wanting to know the real reason why he was throwing everything he had been fighting tooth and nail to keep since the beginning. “I did some thinking. Yeah. Amelia is a great woman. I was happy with her. And I do love her. But…”

You raised your brow slightly, “But?”

“I don’t want to give up hunting for good if it means that I have to give up you and Dean, too. Dean is a pain the ass, but he’s still my brother. We’re all what we have left.” Sam said. “And you were right. You’ve always been there for me, Y/N. No matter what. And I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

You didn’t know if it was your hormones or the happiness bubbling in your chest from what you were hearing that was making your eyes glaze over. You felt yourself slowly start to smile as you stared at the younger man. ‘You’d do that for me?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Sam asked. This was the same man who put his life on the line so many times too count, who threw himself into the cage and said yes to Lucifer to make sure you were okay. “You know I’d do anything for you, Shrimp.”

You felt your smile grow even wider at the mention of a nickname you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. You quickly wrapped your arms around his body best as you could, squeezing him to give a tight hug. It was only a second later when you felt him wrap his large arms around your waist. “I hope this kid isn’t tall as you or your brother, Sasquatch.” You mumbled with your face buried in his flannel covered chest. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You’ll survive. And complain the entire time. Oh. And you’ll probably look like a cute, waddling pregnant woman who’s gonna need help putting on her shoes in seven months and getting off the couch?” Sam proposed an image that you knew well enough would be in your future, but you still looked at him with a dirty expression. Because you knew he was playfully taunting you for what you were going to turn into. “You hungry?”

“Sammy, I’m eating for two.” You said. “I’m always hungry.”

The both of you headed out to the living room to have dinner with his brother. The family that the three of you had created and what remained. While it was dysfunctional, crazy, emotionally draining and dramatic. It was also protective, caring and wonderful. It was made of different bloodlines and a doomed fate here and there. But it was yours to make it whatever you wanted. And you knew this baby was going to have an uncle that was going to be the greatest one they could ever ask for.


	10. LARP and the Real Girl.

You wanted to say things were finally starting to look up for the better since getting back to your own head space. Sam was back in business with you and Dean, but the decision forced him to leave Amelia along with the happy life he lived a year ago that he was thinking about wanting to have forever. The choice didn’t just effect Sam, in order for this to work again, Dean ended his friendship with Benny when it was realized that the vampire only caused more harm than good to keep around. The reason why Dean had kept the brotherly bond going for so long was for the reason that Benny had saved him from that hellhole and felt like he had owed him. You thought saving the vampire’s life twice was enough payment for what he had done. At some point he was going to have to let the past go, all of you had to in order to make room for the future.

You had gotten Cas back just a few weeks ago without a real explanation of how he got pulled out of Purgatory, you wanted to turn a blind eye and pretend that maybe it was the universe spitting him out of a place where he didn’t belong. But that didn’t seem to be the case when the angel starting acting strange, in a way that you didn’t want him to be around until you figured out what was going on. You were starting to grow happy that he decided to skip out on all of you and kept quiet. Kevin was still trying to figure out how to read his half of the demon tablet, but he wasn’t making much progress. You and the boys were left going back to what you knew well, roaming around the country and looking for a case to keep you occupied until something better came along.

You were lying down in the backseat of the Impala, not looking for sleep, just enjoying the peacefulness of the quiet ride you hadn’t felt since the arguments and fighting started with the boys. There was nothing better than hearing the rain hit the metal roof as Dean’s music played quietly up front. This was what you loved. But what you didn’t particularly enjoy was the feeling of your jeans feeling tighter than you were used to. You knew you were already a few more pounds away from not being able to get into your jeans anymore. And weeks shy of a stomach that wasn’t going to look like you were getting little chubby from eating.

While you were relaxing in the backseat and occupying yourself with the silence, Dean was in his rightful place behind the wheel and his brother in the passenger seat right across from him. Every so often the older man took his attention off the road to steal a glance at you from the rear view mirror to see that you hadn’t changed much over the past few hours. He snuck a glance at his little brother from the corner of his eye to see Sam was occupying himself with a map that was illuminated by the small flashlight he was holding. Even Dean could see in the darkness the sullen expression on his brother’s face. It wasn’t exactly the passive anger he had shown for weeks now, or the regret he was probably feeling from leaving a life he wanted behind. He just looked like he needed some fun to get him back into the swing of things again.

“You okay, man?” Dean asked his little brother.

You moved your gaze away from the window and turned your head slightly forward so you were looking up at the back of the boys’ head when you heard Dean’s question directed to the younger Winchester. Sam was silent for a moment before he answered. “We have the most powerful weapon we’ve ever had against demons, and we can’t find a way to use it.”

“Yeah, well, Kevin’s on it. And when he finds something, he’ll call. So we wait.” Dean said. It was the answer that nobody wanted to hear at this point in the game when you had something big brewing up. Kevin was working his hardest at trying to find anything about closing the gates of hell, but even you had to admit you were growing antsy at finding something. “Look, all of us had a rough go over the couple of weeks. And,uh, I know what you guy up wasn’t easy, Sammy. Maybe we ought to take the night off—go see a flick, hit a bar or two, have some fun.”

“You remember fun, don’t you, Sasquatch?” You teased the younger man as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position. You were now leaning against the front seat of the Impala with your head poking between both of the brothers, your attention focused on Sam as you gave him a smile with an arched brow. “Let’s squeeze some in before it’s too late.”

Sam knew what you were really talking about from the subtle joke you slid into the conversation, his brother presumed you it was about the closing the gates of hell and the tedious process it was going to bring. You leaned back in your seat when Sam’s phone began ringing. He shoved a hand into his pocket and looked at the caller I.D., and speaking of the prophet, he noticed Kevin’s name pop up on the screen when he looked down at his phone.

“Kevin, what do you got?“ Sam answered the phone thinking it was the prophet, however another voice he hadn’t heard in a couple of weeks. It was the hunter who was in charge of looking after the kid. “Garth. Hey. Really? Okay. Uh, yeah. Thanks, man.”

You furrowed your brow slightly in curiosity from the one sided conversation you were hearing Sam have with the other hunter you had only worked with once, and nearly ripped his head off. Garth took over the role of Bobby, checking up on hunters and keeping an eye on the most important person in the supernatural world right now. It seemed from the sounds of Sam’s conversation Garth called to give the three of you a case, however the younger Winchester was caught up with one little factor he couldn’t help himself but ask before he ended the call. 

“Oh, wait, hey—hey Garth. Garth, are you there?” Sam asked the other hunter. You heard the man on the other line reply with a yeah when you leaned forward in your seat to eavesdrop on the conversation. “How’d you know where we are?”

The hunter’s response made your lips stretch into a smile, “You’ve been Garthed.”

“Look, it’s bad enough that you’re tracking us, but it’s even worse when you say we’ve been ‘Garthed.’” Sam said, seeming not amused as you were from the man’s catchphrase that you knew he was going to try and make a thing. The both of them discussed a few more things before Sam ended the call, a sigh falling a second after he hit the end button. “Okay, we got to lose the GPS on our phones, because Garth has been tracking us, and other hunters, apparently, to assign cases.”

“Smart. A total Bobby move.” You said. You admitted to Garth straight to his face you never liked the idea of him taking the place of the older hunter who passed. But you came around, and seemed happy at seeing him excelling in the role. “What’s the deal?”

“Uh, well, it’s close—Farmington Hills, Michigan. Dude got ripped limb from limb inside his locked apartment.” Sam told you the details of the case that Garth called about. You winced slightly at the thought while Dean muttered about how that wasn’t good. “Working a case. As long as we’re waiting on Kevin, that’ll be our fun.”

You were tempted to make a remark about how much of a downer he was being at focusing so hard on the job and not letting loose after the tense weeks all of you had. But you stopped yourself when you started to think about things from his point of view. Sam’s kind of fun wasn’t what you or Dean had in mind, his was left behind in the motel in Texas with a broken heart. He wanted to forget about the life that he left behind and focus on the very thing he was going to be doing for the rest of his life. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be in the mood for anything fun if what you wanted was ripped away from you once again. You knew it was going to take some time for him to adjust to the way things were. And when he was finally over his past maybe you could force a smile on that face of his and make him feel a little bit happier about his choice.

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys headed to the crime scene dressed in your fed clothes to try and see what you might be able to learn yourselves about what could have caused a man to have his limbs ripped apart. You flashed your badge to the officer guarding the door and offered him a smile when he glanced nonchalantly at the identification and nodded his head for the three of you to head inside. The place was still crawling with the forensic team and a few officers going over the crime scene to see what they could learn about what caused a man to be ripped apart limb by limb. You were here for the same reason, but looking for a different type of suspect and evidence to find the killer.

You followed behind the boys as you took a moment to take a look around the apartment of your victim. First thing you noticed was the movie posters on the wall of a certain genre you strayed away from and a complete shelving space dedicated to what appeared to be all sorts of fantasy looking toys. Your observation was quickly cut short when your attention was drawn away from the shield you were looking at and the sheriff that was in charge of this investigation.

“Sheriff. Special agent Taggart.” Sam introduced himself to the older man before directing his arm to Dean and then you. “This is my partner special agent Rosewood and special agent Crane.”

“FBI? You guys are quick.” The sheriff said. It seemed he was expecting the feds at a later date in this investigation, you were a little surprised that you were here so soon as well. You had arrived in Michigan late into the evening and got a few hours of sleep before Sam suggested on getting to the crime scene before any sort of possible readings could be tampered with. “Haven’t even got the body out.”

"Well, the FBI is all work, no play.” Dean jokingly said. You knew well enough that the man wasn’t making small talk with the sheriff when he looked over to his brother to give him a smile. It was more of a subtle petty jab. You refrained yourself from rolling your eyes at his childish behavior.

“You know, why don’t you give me and agent Crane the tour while our partner looks around?” Sam suggested as he gestured an arm to you. “I like to think her and I work together best.”

“I work better on my own.” Dean added.

“Your world, agents.” The sheriff said, shrugging his shoulders as he turned around and started to head to the bedroom as he waved a hand for you and Sam to come along. “Follow me.”

The three of you exchanged a silent exchange of words from a simple nod of the head. You and Sam followed behind the sheriff as Dean headed into the kitchen that was empty for now, giving him peace to scan the room for any sort of readings. You made your way into the bedroom where the victim had been found murdered in his own bed, all of what remained was an outline of a torso and head that were covered with a white bed sheet. You found yourself staring at the bloody marks left on the sheets of where his limbs used to be before they were ripped off by some unknown force. You knew it had to be psychically impossible for someone to rip off a human limb with some rope and willpower alone. Even if a handful of people were involved in this crime. But there wasn’t much evidence to show that there was anyone at all.

“Vic’s name was Ed Nelson, thirty-one years old, an insurance-claim adjuster.” The sheriff began informing you of the basics on the victim. You continued to look around the room to see there was blood splatter all over the walls. This poor bastard died brutal and bloody. “He lived alone, which was a real shocker, considering his place is full of toys.” 

“So what happened?” You asked the sheriff.

“No sign of forced entry. Near as we can tell, he was tied up and pulled apart. Died of the shock or massive blood loss.” The sheriff said. You could only hope the death of the victim was quick and painless, but the sight of the bedroom and all of his splattered blood made you guess he felt his limbs being ripped out from the socket and skin ripping from his body…you stopped yourself from thinking too much about it, shuddering in disturbance. “Dealer’s choice on that one.“

“So what about these chains?” Sam wondered as he looked down at the duffel bag lying zipped open with all sorts of clothes still inside, making it look like the victim had just come back from a trip and didn’t bother unpacking just yet. You peered closer to see there appeared to be just that, and it looked oddly familiar to you, making you wonder why the victim had some lying around.

“That’s actually chain mail.” The sheriff corrected the younger Winchester. You found yourself giving the sheriff a slightly surprised look as to why your victim, had some medieval hardware packed with his everyday clothing. You got a shrug and a smile from the sheriff. “We did find clear rope-burn marks on his wrists and ankles.”

Sam decided to head over to the victim to see if he might be able to find something that could explain what happened. You followed behind him as he crouched down to the ground to examine the left arm. Lifting up the blanket covering the limb, you hovered over Sam’s shoulder to see if there was anything suspicious. And you sure did. You found what appeared to be a mark on the forearm that looked to be an old tree. It could have been a tattoo, but your gut was telling you otherwise when you and Sam made eye contact, both of you presuming it might have meant something more than just some ink.

“So, anything…missing from the body?” Sam asked the sheriff as pushed himself up to his feet.

“You mean aside from the arms and legs? Uh…nope.” He said, chuckling at the man’s odd sounding question “All there—twig and berries, too.”

"What about the neighbors?” Sam continued. “Did they hear anything weird?”

“Uh, neighbor downstairs said she got woke up in the middle of the night by the sound of horses stomping their feet and galloping. We didn’t find any hoof prints. She probably heard a TV or was having a bad dream or she was high as balls. Fortunately, we got a real lead off his cellphone.” The sheriff said, heading out of the bedroom and to the living room area that was just a few steps out of the room. “According to the phone records, Ed’s last call was from a guy called Lance Jacobsen. An accountant, also thirties, also lives alone.”

Your focus was momentarily cut away from the sheriff for a moment when you saw Dean stepping out of the kitchen. You gave him a subtle look, wondering if he might have found anything useful, but the shaking of his head told you otherwise. You let out sigh and directed your attention back to the older man to ask, “How’s he a lead?”

“The two of them talked together for fifteen minutes, and then Lance sent Ex here all kinds of angry texts. Some of them were your typical threat stuff, but some were a little weird.” The sheriff said. Dean wondered what he meant by weird. The sheriff looked down at his notepad for reference and flipped through the pages to find the exact words. “Like, uh…’You small bleed for your crimes against us,’ followed by an emoticon of a skull. And this beauty—’I am a mage. I will destroy you.’”

“Huh.” You mumbled underneath your breath in curiosity from the texts that did sound like they were threatening, but in a context that was a bit odd. “Maybe they were…” Your eyes wandered around the apartment once more as you looked around at the vast array of collectibles from all sorts of sci-fi and fantasy genres. “Talking in a language they could understand.”

“These kids today with their texting and murder.” The sheriff replied. He had to be in his sixties at least from the graying hair and beard, a little too out of touch with what people he would call his grandkids and what they liked to do in their free time. You offered up a polite smile, not exactly sure where he was going with that sentence. “My men just brought Lance into the station for questioning.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to take first crack at the suspect.” Sam said.

“Like I said, agent,” The sheriff repeated what he said once before. “it’s your world.”

The sheriff seemed compliant with whatever you and the boys would need long as you kept up pretending you were FBI and here to help solve the case. Sure, you would have loved to spend a few days relaxing and doing something fun, even though a few of Dean’s suggested activists you couldn’t participate fully in. It was having the three of you back together and enjoying one another’s company was what you really missed. Working a case and finding out what could have ripped a man’s limbs off wasn’t a bad way to spend your time, either. Long as you and the boys were back together without bickering, you would consider yourself having fun.

\+ + +

The drive to the police station wasn’t too far from Ed Nelson’s apartment, making it a few minute drive before you were heading inside the familiar setting you’ve seen dozens of times before. When you were pretending to be a federal agent and the rare occasions when you getting in trouble for doing said thing. You and Sam were ready to find out which interrogation room the suspect was being held in, Dean insisted that he needed one more cup of coffee before grilling someone.

While Sam waited around for his brother to fix himself up the drink in a paper cup he found along with creamer and sugar, Dean offered to make you a cup. You agreed to have a hot drink, but changed out the coffee for a cup of decaffeinated tea—one sugar packet and just enough creamer to change the tea into a slightly cloudy color. The creamer had to go first, and then the sugar. Your instructions were a bit odd, that’s what you expected was the reason why Dean was giving you a funny sort of look.

"What’s with you lately?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask when he followed your directions to the T and handed over the warm to the touch cup to you. You furrowed your brow slightly as you brought up the paper cup to your lips, feeling the steam tickle your top lip as you blew on the liquid to cool it down. “Normally you’d kill for a cup of coffee. But you haven’t touched the stuff in weeks.”

You felt yourself freezing in your spot from the observation that Dean made about you that you hoped would go unnoticed, or presume it was a reason that wasn’t worth mentioning. But you should have known better. Dean was trained in this sort of lifestyle to pick up the small cues that made you…well, you. You managed to keep your cool as Dean stared at you, his eyebrow raising slightly at why you were taking so long to answer. Suddenly you could feel the words "He knows” screaming in the back of your head. You heard of pregnant women getting frazzled and confused while they were carrying, and it seemed you caught the “pregnancy brain” early.

“That’s cause, uh…” Sam jumped into the conversation when he noticed you were starting to look a bit nervous as the seconds started to pass while you tried to think of a good enough of a lie to steer the topic into another direction. Dean gave his brother a slightly confused look as to why he was answering for you. “Y/N told me she hasn’t been feeling well lately. Thought it might have something to do with the drinking and caffeine. I suggested she cut it out for a while to see if she might feel better. You said that Y/F/N wasn’t much of a drinker, right?”

“Yeah, I did, actually.” You agreed with the white little lie that sounded good in your mind. Sam was smooth at being able to come up with a story right then and there, evening going for the person you were pretending to be to try and cover up any past behavior that might have been suspicious. Dean seemed satisfied with what you fed him as he walked off to throw away the sugar packets and creamer. You let out a sigh of relief as you looked up at the younger man who was now standing next to you. “You know, you’re pretty good at this whole lying thing.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders at the ability to come up with a story in the matter of seconds. What can I say? I’ve been doing it my whole life. And it’s not the first time I’ve lied to Dean about something…”

“Oh, Sammy. Come on. We talked about this. Try not to bring your gloom while we’re working.” You said, knowing well enough the conversation he was mentioning without even having to speak a single word. You lightly hit him on the chest as you began walking off to the interrogation room with your cup in hand. You looked over your shoulder as you grew a smile and gestured with your free hand for him to grow one of his own. “We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?”

Sam rolled his eyes at your attempt at humor as he followed behind you into the interrogation room where your suspect was waiting since the cops picked him up about an hour ago. You set down your cup as you stood over the metal chair that was directly across from the suspect’s, giving you a chance to greet the man with a friendly smile. He looked up from his folded hands on the table to give you a nervous expression at the sight of not one, but three authority figures here to question him about the death of who he would call soon a friend, despite the texts that landed him here in the first place.

“Lance Jacobson? We’re with the FBI.” Sam was the one who introduced you to the man as he took the seat right next to him as Dean took the one next to you. All of you sat down and got yourselves comfortable for the routine questions you were about to ask him.

“The FBI?” Lance asked. He sounded surprised from his tone of voice at everything happening this morning. Too fast for his brain to comprehend the events all in a row. It would be stressful for anyone in his position. You gave him a moment to process why you were here as you attempted to take a sip of your tea. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe Ed’s dead.”

You found yourself momentarily stopping yourself from doing nothing when you saw Lance burst into tears as he let out a few hiccuping sobs. A natural reaction for someone who was coming to terms with the death of their best friend. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked over at Sam, both of you wondering if Lance was a really good actor. Or he was truly mourning the loss of a good friend in front of your very eyes. You furrowed your brow slightly in disturbance as you looked over at Sam who sat next to him, wondering if this was really happening. Not that there was anything wrong with a man crying about his pain, for some reason, you were starting to feel awkward, unsure if you should console him.

“Lance? Lance, just—just breathe.” Dean spoke up, trying to be the one to get the man to focus again for a few minutes so the three of you could ask your questions and head out to continue on with what you needed. Lance managed to compose himself for a few seconds as he lifted his head up to stare at the older Winchester. “Just breathe. You’re fine.”

Lance managed to keep himself together for all of two seconds before he started sobbing again. You took a sip of your drink as you watched the man go through himself at letting out a few more tears before someone tried again to get him back down to reality. "We just need to ask you a few questions.” Sam told the man, reassuring him that it wasn’t a serious matter quite yet. “Try to calm down.”

“We want to know about the texts you sent Ed last night.” You explained to him, watching as he wiped away his tears and half-attempted to compose himself.

“I told them when they brought me in those texts weren’t from me.” Lance said.

You narrowed your eyes slightly as you gave him an expression to show him you weren’t falling for such a weak attempt at his lie. “Well, your phone and Ed’s phone say otherwise.”

“No, I mean, they were from me, but they weren’t from me me.” Lance attempted to clear up the situation with an explanation to you and the boys that sounded justified in his head. However you found yourself staring at the man across from you with a blank expression. You would admit that you were a little more slower at thinking from the lack of caffeine to kick start your brain. But you had no clue what the hell Lance just said, and what he meant by anything.

“Did you really think that sentence was gonna clear things up?” You asked him.

“I’m sorry. This is all a big misunderstanding. Those text messages were from Greyfox the Mystic to Thargrim the Difficult. Our characters in Moondoor.” Lance attempted one more time to explain himself by giving more details and names that sounded like something straight of a fantasy novel. You found yourself staring into the distance as you tried to think if you had read anything with the names in them while Dean stared at the man with a blank expression, having not a single clue where this was going. “Moondoor is a game that Ed and I play. We’re LARPers. Live-action role-playing?”

“Right. LARPing.” Dean said, nodding his head. He offered a smile to Lance to show him that he understood all of that part. Good times.“

“We play Moondoor every other weekend at Heritage park.” Lance said. “All the info about it is on our website.”

"You guys have a website.” You repeated after the man, pretending to sound impressed.

“Yeah, one of the players designed it.” Lance said. You were feeling yourself becoming overrun with the urge to start laughing at the man for what he liked to do in his free time. Not that you weren’t a stranger by indulging things into things nerdy and what not, you managed to hide your smile as you reached for your cup of tea again. You and Dean looked at each other from the corner of your eye as you exchanged a slight snicker, Sam flashed you a warning glare to knock it off. “In fact, if you log onto the site, they should have posted pictures from last night’s feast. I was there all night.”

“What does any of this have to do with the texts?” Sam asked the man.

“I play a character named Greyfox the Mystic. I’m a very, very powerful mage in the game.” The details Lance gave didn’t clear anything up on what that had to do with anything. You raised your brow slightly as you pretended to be impressed by his alter ego he liked to play as before telling him to continue on. “Ed is…” Lance started to talk about his friend, but he found himself letting out a sigh as he corrected himself. “Ed was Thargrim the Difficult of the Elder Forest, son of Hargim and Bouphin, brother to—” While Lance was going on about the details, he found himself being lost in translation from the familiar blank expressions. "He was Lancelot to my Merlin.”

“Ah.” Dean mumbled, finally beginning to understand some of the context of the situation. “Well, if you guys were so tight, then why the threatening messages?”

“We were named to the queen’s honor guard in anticipation of the battles of kingdoms this weekend. I thought he broke protocol, so I called Ed after game hours and accused him of cheating, and then I challenged him to a duel.” Lance said. Sam repeated after the man, wondering himself if he heard the last word correctly. “Wands and swords at dawn.”

“Now, just out of curiosity,” You entertained the subject matter as you traced the rim of your paper cup. “When you say ‘wands,’ do you mean magic wands?”

“No. Un-magic wands, agent. Because what I really want in a duel is an un-magic wand.” Lance sarcastically answered your question. You give him a look to show him you were being serious. In this line of work you learned to take everyone’s word with a grain of salt. “Yes! Fake wands! It’s a game!” You rolled your eyes from his response as you grabbed your cup up from the table to take another long sip of it to try and finish it. Lance thought it was the perfect time to continue on with his mourning that you had momentarily stopped. This time with an extra touch. “I can’t believe it. Oh, ye gods! Thagrim the Difficult has fallen!”

Lance tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, Dean found himself following the man’s gaze, wondering if there was something around that he couldn’t see. The man burst into tears once more as he started to sob once again. You blinked as you watched him go through himself, not sure what you could do to make him…stop. You decided your time was done here and got up from your seat. However you couldn’t leave him just yet crying like this. You awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, telling him that everything was going to be okay.

You and the boys headed out so Lance could grieve in privacy, what there was from the two way mirror and the security cameras. But you had good a feeling that wasn’t going to be much of a problem for him. You let out a sigh when you were finally back into the main area of the police station. Sam shut the door behind him as the three of you tried to make sense of what just went down.

"So?” Sam asked the both of you. “Do you believe Dungeons and Dragons?”

“I’ve seen a lot of people cry in my time from my time growing up and hunting. Those weren’t crocodile tears, guys.” You said. “That’s not our guy.”

“So what are we looking at?” Sam wondered.

“You and Y/N saw the chain mail.” Dean said. “This could be ‘Fifty Shades of Grey Fox’ for all we know.”

“All right, well, let’s check out the Moondoor site,” Sam suggested. “see if Lance’s story checks out.”

You and the boys headed to the nearest available computer to see what you could find out in the quick search that it would take. You sat yourself down at the computer and pulled up a new internet browser. It took only a few seconds before you were at their homepage that looked pretty impressive and well put together. ”'Welcome to Moondoor, Michigan’s largest LARPing game.’“

“And here I thought we needed to get out more.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. His remark made you let out a quiet chuckle as you clicked on the photo gallery to see what you might be able to find and what this whole thing was all about.

You pulled up the pictures that must have been posted this morning. A slideshow of what appeared to be Lance in his costume seemed nothing more than some Renaissance fair. He seemed like he was having the time of his life with a grin on his face and women crowding around him. Part of you felt like this was something that from the outside looked like it was only for the type of people who occupied their parents’ basements as teenagers playing their games of Dungeons and Dragons and watched Star Wars religiously. The people who found a safe haven in a fantasy world while in reality they were being shoved into lockers and teased for what they liked.

You would consider yourself a bit of a nerd. You enjoyed reading at every possible second you could get and prided yourself on the knowledge you worked hard on to discover, along with many other talents that were a bit useful while hunting. But you never quite had the problem of being labeled as a nerd. Sure, Dean had muttered the insult here and there, but you knew deep down he was one himself. It seemed his curiosity was peaked at what he saw. And you knew it wasn’t because he saw Lance being kissed by two different women on the cheek, showering him with affection.

“Huh.” Dean mumbled, pretending to be only half-interested. “It actually looks kind of awesome.”

Sam gave his brother a look from the corner of his eye as you let out yet another quiet chuckle. "All right, there’s a video.” You said, pushing the mouse over to click on it. “Let’s see what this is all about.”

“Moondoor. A world of intrigue, honor, passion.” You dropped your hand to the desk as you watched the video begin by opening up to a man who was dressed in a replica outfit that almost one like a knight before leading to a few shots of all sorts of people dressed in costumes, along with a blacksmith. You raised your brow slightly as the narrator continued on introducing the groups of people. “Four kingdoms—Followers of the Moon, Elves, Warriors of Yesteryear, and the dreaded Shadow Orcs. All will fight on the fields of Never in the biannual battle of kingdoms. PIck up a sword or a mace. Take control of Moondoor and defend the current ruler…”

The video played on with shots of the fake kingdoms of people and their respected outfits that differentiate them from others. And like every good kingdom needed a queen. You watched as the video cut to what appeared to be a knight handing a bouquet of flowers to a woman dressed in her respected crown and throne. You silently thought to yourself about how pretty her dress was, however your gaze was quickly shifted from her outfit and to the actual woman on the screen.

“Wait, is that…” Dean found himself taken back at a face that seemed all too familiar.

You watched as the shot of the woman zoomed in closer, giving a shot of the redhead as she smelled the bouquet of white flowers and stared into the lens, giving him a smile. “The Queen of the Moons.”

You hit the spacebar on the keyboard, stopping the video from playing anymore. With the video paused on the queen’s face, you looked over your shoulder and pointed a finger at the screen, suddenly overcome with curiosity how they had met this woman before. And you had a feeling there was a good story behind this. "You know her?”

\+ + +

A year and a half ago:

Taking down Dick Roman was a long and tedious process over the past year alone with a few casualties that the Winchester brothers didn’t think would happen. But in this lifestyle, they knew not everyone lived long enough to see the ending of things. No matter how close they were. The brothers had come to that bitter reality after you passed on just earlier this year, leaving them to try and navigate things without you. The boys were left wondering if things might have turned out differently if you were here to help them. Figure out a better solution to their plan, do anything in your power to take down the Dick, no matter what you had to do. Or even be a helping hand for a redhead named Charlie Bradbury as she stood outside of the intimidating office that she worked at. Whose boss was none over than the Dick himself. The only person who could attack him from the inside out. 

The brothers sat in an inconspicuous looking van parked outside the building while Charlie stood just outside the front entrance, having every chance to go in there and get started on the plan. However it was her fears that were keeping her glued to the sidewalk. No matter how much the boys told her that everything was going to work out fine. She kept muttering to herself over the Bluetooth earpiece that she couldn’t do this. She wasn’t a spy. Sam decided that there was one way that he could get the redhead to calm down. 

“Listen, who’s your favorite ‘Harry Potter’ character?” Sam asked the woman. While the question made his brother give him a slightly weird look at where he was going with this, it made Charlie focus on her answer, which was the female hero of the series. “Hermione. Well, all right, did Hermione run when Sirius Black was in trouble or when Voldemort attacked Hogwarts?”

“No, of course not.” Charlie said. Sam had a feeling this angle would work for the woman, he continued on by asking what did the fictional character do. “She kicked ass. She actually saves Harry in practically every book. And then she ends up with the wrong—” 

“Stay on track.” Sam cut off the woman, making sure she kept focus. “Okay, so she kicked ass, right? So, then, what are you gonna do?”

Charlie liked the idea of pretending to be her favorite character and doing what needed to be done. The adrenaline mere seconds ago only lasted for that long before her insecurities came crashing back down on her. “Hermione’s an amazing fictional character I could never live up to. She can kick ass. I can’t. I’m just some I.T. girl whose in way over her head.” Charlie mumbled to herself as she continued to pace back and forth outside the front entrance of her workplace. “I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t do this. I can't—”

“Charlie, hey. Calm down. It’s Dean.” The older Winchester grabbed the phone from his brother so he could communicate with the woman while he stared at her from the monitor. An idea struck itself up in his mind as he thought about a way to get her to get her to focus. It was gonna take more time than he wanted to waste, and it was going to open up a nasty wound, but if she wanted confidence from a real person, Dean knew exactly who he could talk about. “So you’re not like Hermione. She’s fictional. You remind me of someone we knew. Smart, tech savvy.”

"Yeah? So?” Charlie asked him, her nerves getting the best of her that wouldn’t let her grasp the big picture. “Was she a badass who could sneak her way into her boss’ office?”

“Yeah. And she did so much more. Her name was Y/N. She was our best friend. Very smart and smooth. Could get the hell out of anyone if they dare so looked at her the wrong way. And saved our asses a few too many times. I want you to pretend I’m her.” Dean said. “Okay.” 

“It’s kinda gonna be hard. All I can picture is you.” Charlie mumbled. “Can you give me a visual representation of who I’m supposed to pretend?”

Dean felt his grip around the phone he was communicating to with the redhead tighten slightly. Not because he was growing annoyed at time he was wasting. But having to think about the woman he lost just months ago. Dean cleared his throat as he did just that. He went through the basic information that he remembered, from your height to your hair color. And then your eyes. Simple little features that made it feel harder and harder to speak. Months he spent trying to forget you and here he was, being reminded of every little detail he’d kill to be able to see again. 

“I remember when Y/N first started hunting with us. Very first case that ended up with me and her getting picked up by the cops. She was freaking out, thinking her life was over. Hover she ended up saving Sammy’s life. And just a short while later she managed to fool two FBI agents who were hellbent on throwing me and Sam in jail. But you know what she did? She managed to fool them. I mean, we’re talking ‘Usual Suspect’ twist that we didn’t even see coming. Now this was a girl who was a lot like you.” Dean said. “Nerdy. Happy in her own safe, quiet life who was dragged into this life unwillingly. Who could never picture herself doing the things she did. But she managed to overcome all her fears and saved countless lives. Ours too many too count.” 

Dean found himself rambling on about the woman that made his heart beat faster and ache all at the same time. He found himself moving his gaze away from the small screen and to his little brother, who shared the same bittersweet expression on his face at the thought of you. “She was the real life version of Hermione Granger. And instead of ending up with ginger, she ended up with the better looking one. She was the only one that kept our heads on straight. Whenever I get overwhelmed I just think about her. And it makes me feel a bit better.” 

“Oh.” Charlie found herself losing focus once again on her worries that could go wrong and on the woman Dean had talked about. She could tell from his voice on the other line that this Y/N woman meant a lot to him. “She sounds like a total badass.”

“She…she was.” Dean agreed with the woman. “And she would be sitting here with us, cheering you on.” 

“Then where…Oh. Oh.” Charlie felt the wheels start to spin in her head of the reason why he was talking about this Y/N woman in third person. Most of the time it was because the person was no longer with them. “She must have been a special woman to you." 

“Hell yeah. Drop dead sexy and smart as hell, mixed with sarcasm as her first language—along with the God knows how many other ones she could speak. She was something special. We were engaged to be engaged, you could say. But that’s no here or there. Just pretend that I’m Y/N. She’ll be speaking to you and helping you get through this.” Dean told the woman. “Now you’re gonna march yourself in there and kick some leviathan ass. Can you do that for me?” 

The insecurities she had felt just seconds ago were replaced with the rush of confidence she needed to do this. The redhead nodded her head and headed for the doors of the office building, getting ready to kick ass in her own nerdy way. The Charlie Bradbury way she knew she was capable of.

\+ + +

The Queen of Moondoor, who remained in perfect stillness on the police computer screen, was someone the brothers had met once before. It seemed they had met a few new faces while you were gone as they navigated through the year without you. Unlike Garth, she wasn’t a hunter. She was someone who had accidentally gotten herself mixed up a situation after being asked to do her job. You turned yourself around in the office chair and leaned back in your seat with your arms crossed your chest, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to see who the redhead was. The boys told you her real name was Charlie Bradbury, an I.T. tech that once worked for Dick Roman. And that’s where the trouble started for her.

The story about how the Charlie and the boys met was nothing you didn’t experience before; girl got caught in the middle of risky business, girl asked to put herself in danger to help take down the monster. Which she agreed to do. But the story had a touch of humor. While you sat back and felt yourself growing a smile as Sam told you about how his brother had to help the woman flirt with a security guard, Dean wasn’t laughing along with you. He kept trying for you and Sam to focus back onto the case you were working on, you kept your focus on his brother as you put your index finger up to shush him for just a bit longer so Sam could finish the story.

"I told you never we were never gonna talk about that again.” Dean hissed at his brother, looking around the station to see if anyone else had eavesdropped on the conversation. You chuckled to yourself at how he was getting himself so worked up, he rolled his eyes from how you were finding humor in all of this. "It wasn’t my finest hour. We had to…you know, settle.”

“Sette?” You repeated after the older man, exactly wondering what he meant by that. “How?”

"This, uh, sounds kinda stupid when I say it out loud…but we were barely managing without you. And Charlie was in a bit of a need of someone who was real. Who had done something like this before.” Dean said. You knew that Dean wasn’t the type of person who talked about his feelings openly and well for that matter. But you didn’t care. “So we told her about you and how many times you’ve saved our asses. I even went as far as to try and pretend to be you. Try to figure out what you would’ve done.”

You felt yourself falling silent for a moment as you stared at the two men that just a few short weeks ago you were yelling and fighting with every second you got. But here you were, trying your hardest not to let your smile grow too wide for someone to grow suspicious while you were here investigating. You compromised by clearing your throat and returning your expression back to a neutral one. However you let a smirk spread across your lips as you turned back around in your seat to face the computer and clicked out of the video now that you didn’t need it anymore.

"See? Shows us all that we’re lost without one another. I told you both about a thousand times, but nobody listens to little old me…” You muttered underneath your breath as you finished up what you needed to do on the computer. Right as you were about to turn back around in your seat and face the brothers, you found yourself becoming frozen in your spot as your focus was ripped away from the screen at the sound of what could only be presumed as a scream. “What in the hell was that?”

While you and the boys were looking into the alibi Lance had told you about, you didn’t take into consideration that suspicious deaths never took just one body. They always liked to wrack up a body count much high as they could until it was stopped. You and the boys discovered the yells had come from the very man you had spoken to just minutes before, who was broken up about his friends death, but healthy from what you could tell by just looking at him. One minute he was sobbing over his beloved friend and man in arms, now you watched as he got rolled out into a body bag by the coroner. You were just as confused as the rest of the police department about what could have caused Lance to start coughing up blood and how his eyes liquidated from his skull in the matter of seconds. The was no scientific explanation, no supernatural lead either.

“You’re gonna want to see this.” The sheriff said. He’d been here to witness the aftermath of his only suspect’s death that came as a shocker to him. You followed behind the man as he lead you to another computer to pull up the security footage taken in the interrogation room. You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the video of Lance play out almost like normal. But you found yourself fixating on when he started to itch his right arm only to pull up the sleeve. And just a split second later you saw Lance cough up the blood and splatter it all across the two-way glass mirror. “God forbid he was contagious. I’m gonna go dip myself in hand sanitizer.”

You couldn’t blame the man for feeling the slightest bit paranoid from what he witnessed. You found yourself wrapping your arms tighter around your body at the realization that you touched Lance on the shoulder right before his death. “No EMF, no hex bags, no sulfur.” Dean said. He was lost at what could have possibly been the reason behind all of this. “I got nada. What about you and Nancy Drew?”

“Watch the video again.” Sam seemed to have noticed the same thing you did when he bent over the desk and rewinded the video a few seconds only to stop at the part where Lance pulled up his sleeve. He zoomed in on the video so you could see what was on his arm. “There. See that? Same as Ed’s. I don’t know. Maybe they had matching tattoos. I mean, they were brothers in arms. You guys recognize it from anything?”

“A Tim Burton movie?” You asked, shrugging your shoulders. Your mind was growing blank from where you might have seen the symbol before in your time. Maybe it was related, maybe it was a small coincidence. “Aside from the mark of the creepy here, the only thing these guys have in common is LARPing.”

“Lucky for us,” Sam said. “we know the queen.”

\+ + +

You weren’t exactly over the moon with the idea of spending your afternoon traveling into the place where grown adults spent their weekends dressing up in costumes and pretending to be someone else. Not that you didn’t do it almost every day of your life while taking on cases. When you did it you weren’t having fun, you were trying to do something functional with your time. Not that you were a stranger of dressing up and pretending you were someone else. You loved doing it, when you were five. Maybe you were being a bit harsh on these people who were just here to have some fun and forget about their reality for a few days.

When you and the boys arrived at Moondoor the festivities were in full swing; all sorts of tents were set up along with colorful flags that represented the different kingdoms. People dressed in costumes that looked almost straight out of the time period they were pretending to be in walked around on the grounds, smiling and enjoying themselves. You looked over at both of the boys to see they weren’t exactly pleased themselves at where this case lead all of you. But it could have been a lot worse. You shrugged your shoulders before you started walking around among the people that made you feel like you were sticking out in a sore thumb from your modern clothes.

As you and the boys were walking the grounds, passing by tents that appeared to be all sorts of shops and food stands cooking medieval foods, you came upon the sight of an active story. You furrowed your brow slightly at how someone willingly would be put into a wooden stock so his hands and head were trapped. A man stood next to him dressed in a white and red checkered outfit, probably some kind of knight you guessed. “I, Boltar the Furious, bind you to this stock so that all of Moondoor may see you for what you are—a thief.” 

“My shadow orc brethren will descend from the black hills and the tents of mo—” The man, who you could only presume was roleplaying as a orc from what you remembered from the video, went on about something. That was, until the fake teeth in his mouth fell right out and onto the ground. But that seemed no problem to be fixed.

You watched as the one pretending to be the knight punishing the orc stopped the game for just a moment so he could help out the man. He picked up the teeth up from the ground and dusted off any dirt with his gloved hand before putting them back into the orc’s mouth, who apologized for the inconvenience. Your face scrunched up slightly when he let the fake teeth be put back into his mouth without even washing them off and continuing on with his revenge speech.

“And the tents of Moondoor will be bathed in blood as we unseat the queen of the Moons from the throne she stole from the rightful heir—the shadow king.” The orc went on as a small crowd of began to grow to witness this “And you—”

“Silentium! Serve your time with honor, heathen.” The knight took out something from his satchel and threw it directly at the orc, cutting him off from whatever that he was about to say. You had to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing at what you were witnessing. “And if you need to use the chamber pot, stomp your feet thrice.”

“Excuse me, hi.” Dean managed to stop the knight named Gerry when he started to walk away so you could have a quick word with him. “You are a LARPer, yea?”

“I prefer the term ‘interactive literaturist.’” He said.

“Right.” Dean said, not really caring what kind of term the kid like to use to justify whatever he was doing. He pulled out his fake badge and showed it to him. “I am Special agent Rosewood. These are my partners, special agent Taggart and special agent Crane.”

“Hold!” Gerry shouted. You furrowed your brow slightly from what was going on, causing you to lift down your arm as he pulled down his hood. It seemed there was a bit of miscommunication here. “Um, guys, we’re not doing the whole genre-mash-up thing this weekend. We only do that every third month.”

You smiled slightly as you blinked, “Come again?”

“Your fake badges, the cheap suits. It’s very cool. I get it. Your characters are FBI agents that somehow traveled to Moondoor, but I’m telling you it’s straight-up Moondoor this weekend.” He said, presuming you and the boys were like everyone else here. You had never been called out like this in such an awkward way that made you feel like your cheeks were on fire. Sam tried to deny such a thing, saying the badges were very much real. But they weren’t. Gerry took the badge out from Sam’s hand to inspect it. “Uh, yeah, they are, and they’re very good, but, well, the I.D. number shifted to ten digits with two letters mixed in at the end of the year and the seal’s from last month. Really good work. It’s just that it’s a tournament weekend, okay, guys? So you gotta follow the rules. If there’s no rules—chaos.” 

You found yourself rolling your eyes in annoyance as you shoved the badge into your pocket in realization it would be no use for you. “Resume!” Gerry shouted once again, pulling his hood back up to continue on with things in his character. “If you would like to join the army of Moons, the queen is always on the lookout for new squires.”

“Yes. Right.” Dean said. “Uh, we would like to see your queen now, please.”

“Well, the queen’s calendar is booked up months in advance.” Gerry said. “But if you wish to witness what’s in store for you in her army, her highness is overseeing new squires on the pitch as we speak.”

It seemed if you wanted to get anywhere near the queen you were going to have to follow the rules and play along. You and the boys followed the direction of where Gerry, or Boltar the Furious as he liked to call himself, pointed you in of where you would find her highness.

You stumbled across a circle of people watching a sword fight play out right in front of their very eyes, their weapons made out of nothing more than what you could presume was memory foam spray painted silver. However it was up against two individuals heavy in the fight, swinging their swords and trying to hit anywhere that would be a fatal wound. You watched as one of them with their helmet covering their face. How they could see out of the thing was a mystery to you. But it seemed they could see well enough. They managed to grab a hold of their opponent by the arm and twist it just at the right angle where they made him drop to his knees and pointed their sword at them. 

“Yield! I yield!” He shouted his mercy to the knight before he could find his finish his fictional fate with a bloody end. You narrowed your eyes slightly as the person took off their helmet, revealing their identity. A long flow of red hair that stood out anywhere in a crowd came cascading down, making you realize who it was. She wasn’t a knight, she was the queen. She was Charlie Bradbury. The knight, down on his knees, stared at the woman in front of him. “I love you.”

"I know. Take your leave to my medical tent and attend to your…severed limbs.” The queen instructed to the knight, allowing him to go free as he got up to his feet and headed off while Charlie directed her focus to her loyal subjects. “Greyfox and Thargrim are missing. We pray to the goddess they have not fallen victim to fowl play. In their absence, the honor guard’s ranks are weakened. To join…” As Charlie conducted her duties and played out the role while taking small steps in a circle to scan the crowd, she found herself stumbling on a pair of two faces that made her feel like her heart drop into her stomach. “Oh, blerg. Uh…the queen needs some royal ‘we’ time. Talk amongst thyselves.” 

Charlie wasted no time booking out of there, leaving her people behind rather confused as to what had gotten in to her. You let out a sigh as you followed behind Sam when he saw the redhead scurry off into one of the tents just a few yards away. Dean was right behind you, but he only made it about a foot before he found himself intrigued by the foam sword. He picked it up from the ground and examined it for a moment, mumbling to himself about how good the balance felt. You stopped in your tracks and hissed the man’s name, getting him back into the reality of things. He quickly followed behind you with the sword in hand.

You shoved back the gold silk curtains that lead to the queen’s tents that served as her quarters. You took a second to examine the place with its color scheme of gold and reds. It was rather nice in here. Too bad Charlie wasn’t going to be able to enjoy it anymore. You stumbled upon the sight of Sam trying to talk to the woman while she started to hastily pack up a bag.

“Charlie Bradbury is dead. She died a year ago. You killed her. My name is Carrie Heinlein. Oh, and guess what. Now you killed her, too.” Charlie said. She began taking off her outfit and shoving the pieces into her bag. Dean tried to apologize to the woman, but all he could get out was two words before the redhead was turning around and pointing a finger at the man. “No, I buried myself. Then Dick Roman went down, his company belly-up, and I figure, ‘Hey, it’s all good.’ And I was fine. I got my life back. Now you’re here…with some complete stranger I’ve never met before.”

Your lips drew into a smile when you saw Charlie’s eyes wander away from the two brothers when she realized that there was someone she hadn’t met before. You could tell the question of who you were was rolling around in the back of her mind. Before she could ask, you opened your mouth and decided to do it, hoping that it might help calm her down. But you were quickly cut off before you could even try to get out a single world.

“You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna be around long enough to remember your name. No offense. If you guys are here, monsters are here.” Charlie said. She turned back around and began to pack up the last of her things. “Why do I have such bad luck? What am I— some kind of monster magnet?” The redhead quickly turned back around to face the three of you, her question made a rush of paranoia rush over her. You opened your mouth once again to say something, but she spoke up first. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care. What I care about is not getting my other arm broken…or dying. So, I’m dropping my sword and walking off the stage, bitches. Have fun stormin the castle.” 

“Charlie. Carrie…Or whatever the hell your name is! Stop!” You shouted at the woman when she went storming past the three of you, passing along the crown to the older Winchester so he was now wearing it. Charlie only managed to draw back the silk curtain before you stopped her, the curiosity of your question was partly the reason why she stayed. “Don’t you think it’s kind of rude for a queen to rush off without asking a stranger’s name?”

"Fine. I’ll bite.” Charlie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Who are you?”

“Charlie, I’d like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N.” Dean formally introduced you to the redhead while he took the crown off his head and placed it onto yours. “Y/N, this is Charlie Bradbury.”

“Wait. Like…the Y/N?” Charlie felt herself momentarily forgetting all about the reason why she was trying to run away at the sight of you. You gave her a warm smile as you tried to give her reassurance that everything was going to be fine. But her own smile began to fade as her mind remembered one small detail. She was now staring at you like you were some kind of ghost. “But, I thought you were supposed to be dead. And you look very undead. Not that I would know what a dead person would look like. Or want to, for that matter.”

“It’s okay. I’m not dead. Never was. They thought so to up until a few months ago. But your friends on the other hand. Greyfox and Thargrim—Ed and Lance—they’re not missing. They’re dead.” You told her the unfortunate news about her fellow knights. You watched as her face dropped into a panicked dread from the situation she was being dragged into once again. “Now, you want to stick around to hear the long version of what we have to say? ‘Cause far as I can tell you’ve got about two options. You can run like a coward. Or you can be a true queen and stick around to defend her kingdom before someone else gets killed.”

Charlie had a feeling she didn’t have much choice in the matter of what to do. The four of you sat around the table and began to discuss what happened to her two fellow friends, all of the gruesome details made her appear queasy and unsettled. You offered a small smile as an attempt of some sort of apology. All of this was a lot to take in. But it was the things she needed to hear since it was going on in the very grounds she was speaking the weekend in.

“Drawn and quartered and bleeding out? Please stop talking again.” Charlie said, her reaction made you chuckle quietly at her nervous ticks from how she was handling all of this. “So what do you think did this?”

“Well, aside from the mark and them both being LARPers, there’s really not much else to go on.” You said. You pushed over the crime scene photograph of the mark on Ed’s arm for Charlie to examine. “We were wondering if this might look familiar to you.”

“Wait, I’ve seen this before. It’s a celtic magic symbol. At least it was in my favorite video game.” Charlie said. “Does that help? Can I go now?”

“It’s a start, but no.” Sam said. He lifted up his arm up from the table, stopping the woman from trying to sneak out of here and running for the hills like she wanted. “Listen. What can you tell us about Ed and Lance?”

“Good guys. Two of the best members of the queen’s ever-shrinking army.” Charlie said. You repeated after the woman, wondering if her running streak of accidental coincidences wasn’t just that. “My kingdom had a lot of bad luck lately, probably 'cause of me, but maybe it’s tied to this. A month ago, one of my guys had both her ankles broken before battle. Before that, I had three people have hospital-worthy accidents while at home. You think there’s any connection there?”

“They have any enemies in common?” You asked her.

“In real life? No. Everyone gets along famously. In the game, though, they had tons of enemies.” Charlie explained to all of you. She got up from her seat and headed over to another table with a map displaying the fictional world of Moondoor and the army that controlled certain areas. “Red reps are the followers of the moon—my peeps. Green for elves, blue’s for Warrior’s of Yesteryear, and black’s for shadow orcs—total d-bags. This weekend is the battle of the kingdoms to see who wears the forever crown. This weekend, every fraction is definitely an enemy of me and mine.”

"You know, if you, uh…” Dean cleared his throat as he tried his hardest not to make it seem like he was losing focus on the case. He’d been examining the map and mentally figuring out how to help Charlie out with her shrinking army. He pointed a finger down at the red plastic figures that represented her people and gave a helpful tip. “…move your arches back and your broadswords men to the west…”

“Huh. Like the warriors. Hey, good call.” Charlie found herself losing focus for a moment about the entire situation herself when Dean engaged her into fixing her strategy. Both of them talked among themselves for a moment, having no clue Sam was growing annoyed while you looked on at the both of them becoming so engaged in all of this. “What about the southern wall?” 

“Guys.” Sam finally spoke up, breaking his brother and Charlie’s concentration away from the fictional world of Moondoor and back to the situation at hand. Both of them apologized as Charlie focused back again, however Dean found himself tempted to move the toy sized catapult forward. The redhead nodded her head in agreement when Sam went on talking. “So maybe someone from one of the other kingdoms got ahold of real magic and started using it to weaken your army.”

“But why not just come after me?” Charlie asked. “And why the escalation?”

“All right, we will canvass the kingdoms. You should get out of here.” Dean instructed to Charlie, coming up with a plan of action all on his own. “We don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Whoa, wait.” Sam said, stopping his brother from letting him do such a thing. It seemed he thought the idea of letting the redhead out of their sights wasn’t such a good one.“Charlie knows Moondoor a lot better than we do. We need her.“

“Sam, I think we can take care of a bunch of accountants with foam swords.”

“We need all the people we can get, Dean. People are dying.”

“My point, which is usually yours,” Dean continued on to argue with his brother by going with the plan that normally his little brother always liked to do. You let out a quiet sigh as you rolled your eyes in frustration from how they were acting. “Is that she should get somewhere safe and back too her normal life.”

"Okay! Okay. Before we waste more time over this petty argument, how about we handle things this way? You two work the case, I’ll keep an eye on Charlie and work the odds and ends. Unless…” You proposed an idea that met everyone in the middle about a possible plan of action. You looked over at the woman to see what she had in mind, knowing this all depended on her decision. “Unless…you want to leave and get the hell out. The decision is completely and totally up to yours. Don’t let this two idiots pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to leave.” Charlie said. You nodded your head at your decision while Sam seemed a bit annoyed at the sight of her leaving so soon. And while Dean was basking in the glory of winning the argument with his brother, it only lasted for a few seconds before the redhead continued on speaking to finish her thought. “But the queen…she has to stay. I mean, Sam is right. People are dying.They can’t happen on my watch. And you know what? I am tired of running. I like my life here. I’m gonna stay and fight for it.”

You raised your brow slightly from the way she was taking charge and putting herself in danger like this for the sake of making sure that people didn’t end up like the rest of her friends. You gave her a smile when the both of you made eye contact from the bold move she made. However your concentration was broken away when you heard your phone go off. You shoved a hand inside your jacket pocket and pulled out your phone, excusing yourself for a moment so you could take this. The conversation was brief and exchanged few words with the sheriff when he called you up with an update on the case. You nodded your head as you thanked him for the information and hung up the phone, ending the conversation quickly as it started.

“So, the toxicology report came back on Lance. Nothing.” You informed the brothers and Charlie as you put your phone back into your pocket for safekeeping. “But the medical examiner said his body showed cleared signs that he was killed by belladonna.”

Dean and Charlie seemed to have been familiar with the name, but their mind went in a whole other direction when they spoke both in usion. “The porn star?”

Sam found himself staring at the two of them while you cleared your throat, wondering how this conversation turned in a strange direction that you honestly didn’t expect coming. How they had came to that conclusion was all of their own doing. But, no, sadly to this dismay a porn star wasn’t responsible for these supposed accidents and killings. “The poison.” You muttered the answer to Dean and Charlie, making them realize what you were really talking about. You rolled your eyes before continuing on speaking. “However, they couldn’t find a trace of it in his system.”

“Just like they couldn’t find ropes in Ed’s apartment.” Dean noted, finding a pattern here.

“Charlie, I’m gonna need to borrow your laptop.” Sam said.

“There are no laptops in Moondoor.” Charlie said. The boys gave her a look of disbelief from how this was going to make this a bit more complicated for all of you. “What? There are rules. But there is a tech tent four tents down.”

“Okay. How about you guys go canvas,” Sam suggested. “and I’ll dig into these accidents and this mark?”

“Sounds good.” You said. As the younger man made his way towards the exit, you couldn’t help yourself but bring up the no electronic role in a sort of joking manner. “Send a carrier pigeon if you need help.”

Sam thought your joke was the least bit funny as he flashed you a sarcastic sort of smile before disappearing out of sight. You looked over at the two remaining people, wondering how this was gonna go. “Okay. Besides the fact that I’m meeting the Y/N Y/L/N, which by the way, you’re like a total legend. And I’m kinda freaking out being in the same room as you. I mean, I thought you were, you know…dead. But you’re not. Which is awesome.”

“Yeah. I’m happy being back, too.” You agreed with the woman as you felt yourself growing a smile at the sight of her growing rather…well, giddy at the sight of you. "The boys told me you helped them take down Dick Roman? Now that’s a story I want to hear.”

“Totally. It was hilarious. And super scary all at the same time. Obviously I’m gonna need the full wiki on where you have been hiding out for the past two and a half years. Dean practically chatted my ear off about you while I was breaking into Dick’s office.” Charlie said. You found yourself slowly looking over at the older Winchester, who was growing a bit embarrassed at the truth that the redhead slipped out from her mouth. Dean smiled slightly as he shrugged his shoulders, as if he was denying such a thing. You ignored him and directed your attention back to Charlie. “But first, you and Dean are gonna have to ditch the suit if you’re gonna walk and talk with the queen.”

You had only known Charlie for all of a few minutes, but there was something about her that you found oddly refreshing. From her personality to small quirks you picked up about her. She seemed like someone who was a lot of fun and yet at the same time was a bit like Dean in some ways. And it was refreshing to be spending some time with a person that wasn’t a hunter or whose last name was Winchester. You followed behind Charlie as she directed you towards her duffel bag that she threw back to the bed so she could find some clothes for you to change into. Dean followed behind as he felt himself growing a smirk at the idea of taking part of this. You sat down on the bed and watched as Charlie got to work while Dean waited around.

“You can change over there.” Charlie said, handing over a stack of clothing along with a few other necessities to help you blend in as she pointed over to a room divider that fit the decor of the room. As you headed off, Dean looked towards the redhead with a raised brow, trying his hardest to hide his excitement as he waited for her to help him out. "There’s a tent three down from mine. One of my peeps can hook you up. Tell them the queen sent you.“

"Oh. Uh…” Dean found himself suddenly starting to panic slightly at the thought of you and Charlie being together for the next few minutes. “I’ll just come back here after I’m done?”

“Yeah. That’s kinda how it works.” You said, “Unless you need help finding your way around.”

“Nah. Nah…I’m good.” Dean mumbled. “I’ll be back You girls don’t have too much fun.”

Dean started to make his way to exit the tent, and not even with his back turned and one foot out the door, he heard you strike up a conversation with Charlie. A few seconds later he heard a chorus of laughter. He began to grow nervous at the things you were about to tell him. And the things Charlie might slip out. When two women got talking, there was no way of knowing what they were going to discuss. But he found the sounds of your laughter comforting at the same time. He didn’t know the last time you made that sound, and seeing Charlie made him realize that not too long ago he didn’t think he was ever going to be able to hear it ever again.

\+ + +

You were the type of person who didn’t like to talk about themselves too much or spill your guts to a complete stranger. You enjoyed your privacy and even kept a few secrets from the boys. It was just the nature of being a hunter. But there was something about Charlie and her personality that had you feel comfortable around her, like you’ve known her for your entire life. She felt like one of those people you could instantly bond with. It also helped with the fact that she wasn’t someone with the last name Winchester or a hunter. She was just a normal person who happened to know about the supernatural. And of the same gender as you, which was a bonus. You didn’t know how long it’d been since you got to hang out with someone that wasn’t a man. 

Charlie reminded you a lot of Josh, your best friend from back home. You and her started talking the second Dean turned his back and started to make his way out of the tent. You were getting out of your fed clothes while you talked to Charlie about how excited she was to meet you, prompting you to start chuckling. To you, meeting the very woman who had been the reason why the boys managed to help take down Dick Roman, the monster you were fortunate enough to have never met, was a chance for you to say thank you. You swore you could hear Charlie blushing when you did so. She didn’t linger too much on her glory, she wanted to know more about you and how you tricked the boys into thinking you were dead. 

The story required a bit of backstory; you told her about the gory details she willingly asked for that landed you in the hospital, beaten to a near inch of your life with one less finger. You could have made a full recovery and got almost full mobility of your finger, but you didn’t want that. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin and be someone else for a change. When you said it out loud, you felt a little weird telling it to an outsider who didn’t live like you. Who grew up with a parent who controlled every aspect of your life, whose life was planned out for them before they were even born. There was so much to the story, but you just met Charlie and you didn’t want to scare her with the bitter details of your life. The redhead seemed to understand the feeling. She ran off and was trying to live as someone else, after all.

“Let me recap so I can wrap my head around this. Sam and Dean thought your body double, which was just a shapeshifter possessed by a demon, that you killed—with a broken arm and missing finger. Even more of a reason why you’re my idol.” Charlie tried to summarize the story you had been telling her over the past few minutes. You smiled to yourself at her remark as you stepped out to finish getting ready. “Anyway, they thought this double was really you this entire time? But a friend of yours put some kind of spell on you that made you temporarily someone else? Like some kind of supernatural witness protection program?”

“Sort of. After Dean took down Dick Roman, it got messier than anyone thought. He was sent to purgatory for a year. It’s an afterlife for all the creepy and crawly. Sam was left…well, alone. All of his family was gone.” You said. You felt yourself momentary overcome with the guilt that always kept creeping out of nowhere when you started to think about the decisions you made. And if things might have been different if you stuck around. “Well, not completely. He found a woman he fell in love with and settled down for that year with her in Texas. Everything seemed to be going well for him…until Dean came back.”

You told Charlie about how the boys were tracking down a lead from a past situation that happened while you were still presumed dead. While the boys were in Michigan trying to track down Kevin on his girlfriend’s college campus, Dean found himself accidentally bumping into a woman who wasn’t looking where they were going. The woman happened to be you. A dead neighbor and a possessed husband you were pretending to pose as for those two years ended up making you remember who you were. But that wasn’t the end of the story. It was just the beginning, and you had still so much to tell her.

You continued on by telling her about how Dean found a friend in Purgatory named Benny Lafitte, a vampire who helped him get out of the place. And how this friendship put a real damper in the brothers relationship. You were stuck in the middle of what the right thing to was. The boys spent weeks going back and forth about the situation. While you stood in front of the mirror and adjusting your outfit to make sure it look decent, you went on about how a hunter and Sam was ready to kill Benny. And then the part where Dean hit below the belt, and you willingly went along with it.

"You let Dean send Sam a phantom text from his ex?” Charlie repeated the infamous move that you were regretting to this very day. Your expression faltered slightly as you stare at yourself with a frown in the mirror. “Dick move, ma'am.”

“Yeah. Not my finest hour of being his best friend. I’m still kicking myself for doing that. To be fair, Sam was really getting under my skin that day.” You made a half attempt at defending yourself while you started to smooth out the burgundy top that was similar to hers after you complained the first one was too tight. As your hand slid down your stomach, that’s when you nonchalantly spoke of a secret you’ve been guarding from anyone. “And my hormones have been all of the place lately because of the baby.“

You went on for a few seconds without realizing the exact words slipped out of your mouth until you caught Charlie’s expression in the mirror. An eerie silence fell between the both of you, giving you red flags that was making you start to panic. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”

“Do you have any shoes to go with this? Heels aren’t probably the most logical option.” You cut off the woman before she could try and linger on a topic that accidentally slipped out from your mouth. You turned your attention over to Charlie with a blank expression as you waited for her to offer you up something. But she just sat there with a sort of smile on her face. You swallowed slightly, knowing damn well you weren’t going to get out of this one. “Yes. I did say baby. As in…you know. Pregnancy.”

"Oh. Wow. You are. Really? Well, then a congratulations is an order. That’s amazing! You…don’t look so happy. Oh, no. Not good?” Charlie found her excitement slowly starting to change when she saw your not so much of one. Suddenly she wondered if this was one of those situations she’d luckily never have to worry about. “I’m guessing this isn’t good. Which is okay. Not everyone wants to be a mom. Totally understandable. Screw what society tells us women what to do—” 

"What? No. No, I am excited. I’m over the moon about this. It’s just…” You found yourself trailing off when you realize that maybe you were oversharing just a tad bit too much information about your personal life. You gave the redhead a small smile. “Here I am going on about my problems like I’ve known you forever. Even though we just met today. You probably think I’m a weirdo. And I would have no problem if you did. Obviously.”

“I think a lot of things about you. But weirdo? Far from it. I mean, yeah, we just met…but this is gonna sound totally strange, I know. But you ever meet those people where you just feel super comfortable around them? You’re one of those people.” Charlie admitted her own feelings to her, causing her to feel the same embarrassment you had just once before. You felt your smile grow a little bit wider, giving her reassurance the feeling was very much mutual to her. “I mean, I understand if you don’t want to tell me anything else. I’m sure you and the boys want to keep this a secret—”

“Dean doesn’t know yet.” You suddenly felt yourself blurting out even more information about the secret you really should have done a better job at keeping it, instead you were telling everyone you came across. Except the baby’s father. Charlie’s eyes grew wider. “Sam does. I told him after he was trying to figure out what to do. It was the reason why I couldn’t support him being with Amelia. And I’m kinda afraid that’s the reason why he stayed. To make sure I’m okay. And the baby. I haven’t told Dean yet because he’s not good with…this kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?” Charlie asked. “Babies?”

“No. I guess…normalcy. Family. It’s sort of the reason why he didn’t want Sam to be with Amelia. I’m sure he would say, ‘In this life, you can’t afford attachments. You just got to let go.’ Which is complete crap. I mean, him and I have had our fair share of downs. But we’re still together.” You said. You looked down at the ground for a second before back at Charlie. “I think Dean always thought it was just gonna be the three of us. Now…there’s one more. And I’m not sure why the hell I’m so scared at breaking the news to him. But I can’t tell him. Not yet.”

Everything normal and good that Dean Winchester ever got crashed and burned in his face miserably. His happy life was ruined at the age of four by his father when John decided to uproot the boys and forced them into this lifestyle. Dean was mentally brainwashed into taking the bare minimum of what he deserved for the sake of looking out for Sam and saving people by the monsters he was taught to hunt. Much as this lifestyle turned him into the perfect little hunter his father would be proud of, there was still a human being, a little boy who was forced to grow up too fast that still needed to be loved. To be cared for. And you tried your hardest to give everything he ever missed out on. Even on the things you couldn’t when he wanted it.

Part of the reason why you were afraid to tell Dean he was about to become a father was because of more than just his harsh upbringing. It was also because he tried to be a father figure just a few short years ago. He was great at being a figure to Ben Braden to look up to, but it proved complicated when the lifestyle of hunting came back to drag the poor kid and his mother in danger. The exact thing Dean tried his hardest to make sure it didn’t happen. While Ben was unharmed, it was Lisa who suffered the consequences and nearly lost her life.

Even during your time hunting together while Dean was playing house and you were back from the cage, there was a fraction of time where you thought you were going to be a mother to a shapeshifter baby. While it was short, you didn’t know it was going to end in misery, you thought about the future and the baby you would be raising today. Not to mention Emma, the daughter that came out of a mindless hookup, who turned out to be a monster that died from a bullet to the chest.

Dean’s track record with kids wasn’t exactly the best. His own insecurities would probably eat him from the inside out from all the things that might go wrong. What kind of terrible fate his child would suffer years down the line because of him. He might even fear about the idea of raising a child on his own if something happened to you. What if he ended up being like his own father and forced your child into being the way he was? You had to remind yourself that these thoughts were just fictional, theories that your brain come up with from its own anxiety. For all you knew Dean would be over the moon, exacted as you were at the idea of having a family. But the possibility to see how his reaction might be would just have to wait for another day.

After you spilled your guts and the truth she had been anticipating over, you finished getting ready and putting on the final details of your outfit. You had to admit going into this you were a little bit skeptical, but looking at yourself in the mirror, you were sort of digging it now. Sometimes hunts and cases required you to dress in costumes that were painful and stupid, but this was something you could get apart of. You didn’t think you ever had this much fun on a hunt before. And Charlie seemed like a friend in the making who was a good listener. The both of you filled the silence with random conversation to pass the time before you heard footsteps approaching the curtains to the tent, along with a familiar voice coming from behind the fabric.

“Permission to enter, your majesty?“

You found yourself growing a smile as you shook your head at how Dean was really committing himself to this whole going undercover for the hunt. You knew he intrigued by all of this from the very beginning, but you weren’t going to make fun of him. He needed a bit of fun. Charlie played along and granted him access. A few seconds later the curtain was pushed aside and stepped in Dean, who was out of his fed clothes and into some that were more suitable for the time period. If there was one thing you took away from his outfit, it was how good he looked. No matter what he wore, Dean always managed to pull it off.

“Oh look.” You said with a playful tone of voice as you dropped your hands back to your side after you finally stopped fidgeting with your outfit after it felt more comfortable on you. “It’s my knight in shining armor.”

Dean fussed around with his own clothes the accessories that paired with it to get it more used to them. When he found himself looking forward in your direction to see what you had gotten into, he momentarily froze in his actions, seeming taken back at your own transformation. “Wow. Y/N,” He muttered underneath his breath as he approached you. You rolled your eyes as his began to move up and down your body. “I gotta say. You look…”

“If you say ridiculous I’m gonna punch you in the face.” You warmed the man when you thought his silence was his attempt at trying not to laugh. “This was all Charlie’s idea. Don’t make fun of me because I can’t pull off this look. I was gonna wear something else, but it didn’t fit me.”

“That’s not exactly what I was gonna open with. I was gonna say you look extremely hot.” Dean said, freely making a compliment they would have felt awkward of Charlie was still lingering around. However it seemed the redhead has already made her way out of the tent to speak to her people. Dean approached you as he gave you a smile that could always make it feel like it was going to leap out of your chest. He grabbed your hand into his own and lifted it up, and ever so gently, placed a kiss on the back of the skin. "I could never disrespect a woman so beautiful and sophisticated as yourself. After all, it’s not very noble to treat the queen whose heart I’m after.”

“Is that so, my dear knight?” You raised your brow as you played along with the little game that was going on between the both of you. “Well, in order to even consider the possibility of courting me, you’ll have to prove yourself of how brave and strong you are. And even then I’ll have to consider spending my time with someone beneath me in status. Think of the scandal it’d cause. Daughters of royalty weren’t married off to knights.”

“I didn’t think rules applied to you. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve loved you from afar for so long.” Dean said. “But I swear my loyalty to you and only you.”

“You, my love, are a huge dork. And I can’t picture anyone else I want to spend the rest of my days with.” You mumbled to the older a man as you felt your lips stretch into a smile. "Let’s get out of here before the real queen has our heads.”

The both of you headed out of the tent and back to the grounds to see if you could find the redhead among the crowd of people passing by. Dean lingered behind you so he could switch out the sword covered in memory foam for a real feeling one, wanting to get more into character. And you had a feeling he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to walk around with a sword to pretend it was the real thing. You declined one for yourself when he offered, causing him to mutter underneath his breath that it was your loss. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering how much he was going to deny being into this role playing game until he gave up. Much as you wanted to tease him, you were having a bit of fun yourself.

While you waited for him to slip the wooden sword into his belt for safekeeping, you found your gaze lingering off the man and to a stranger when you heard a voice coming from in front of you. There was a man, who had to be your age, or even a little older, greeted you with a friendly smile. It was hard to make out some of his features due to the hood drawn up. You returned the gesture out of politeness. However you could feel it growing when you noticed his outfit looked like he spent his time stealing from the rich to give to the poor. He took it as something far different from the way he approached the conversation.

“Good day, my lady. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around these parts in Moondoor before.“ He said. You knew damn well what he was trying to do, and while it would have been easier to turn him down, you were too amused to stop him from making a complete fool of himself. "And I would remember a face fresh and sweet like a picked red rose.”

“Hey, Robin Hood. She’s with me.” Dean jumped into the short lived conversation before you could politely excuse yourself. He stepped forward so he was next to you, placing a hand on your lower back and rested the other one on his waist, close to the wooden sword. As if it was a subtle threat that might have been used in this century. “Why don’t you do us a favor and use that Shakespeare line on someone else?”

The man ignored Dean’s rude behavior as he kept his focus on you. “Is this fopdoodle bothering you, madame?”

“On the contrary, this gentleman is courting me. I’m afraid my heart belongs to only him.” You declared. You saw the look on the man’s face slowly beginning to fall when he realized that you were in fact in a relationship with the person who he just called stupid in more modern terms. He wished you a good day as he walked off, not wanting to cause any trouble before he could end up with a black eye. You rolled your eyes as you turned your attention over to Dean, who looked nothing short of pissed off as he watched the man disappear into the crowds. “Please don’t tell me you’re jealous, my surly knight.”

“That douche just called me…whatever the hell it was.” Dean grumbled. You reached out and wrapped your arms wrapped your arms around his before leaning yourself against him as the both of you started walking again. You saw another man dressed in similar colors as yourself flash you a familiar smile, you returned the gesture before focusing your attention forward.

“These losers mistake friendliness as flirting. Out in the real world they would never have the guts to talk to someone of the opposite gender. But here, they’re different.” You said, trying to cut some slack for the folks who didn’t leave very exciting lives. Their anxiety and lack of social skills confined them to this fantasy world where they could be free and someone else. “They’re confident. They can fight battles and save the damsel.”

“Yeah, well, I’m warning you now.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. “If one of them tries anything besides a pick up line, I’ll knock them out.”

You let out a quiet laugh at his aggressive behavior and squeezed his arm, reassuring him there was nothing to worry about. You were very much capable of protecting yourself against a couple of nerds in their costumes. The both of you finally caught up to Charlie, who had been momentarily speaking to someone before they walked off. You waved your arm in the air to catch her attention, Charlie smile as she returned the gesture. However the redhead found herself going back to her royal duties when a subject passed by and gave her respectful greeting and bow to the queen before going on her way.

“Sorry for falling behind. Someone was busy trying to find Excalibur and then nearly ready to flog someone to death.” You said. Your excuse made Charlie give you a slightly confused look at what happened while she was gone. You shook your head, not really wanting to get into details as the three of you started making your way across the grounds. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask, have you always been into LARPing?”

“Nah. For role-play, I prefer a tabletop. D&D, Gamma World, Car Wars. That’s why Cthulhu invented multi-sided dice, right? But a buddy of mine was into LARPing. Went for him, stayed for the chucks.“ Charlie said. You laughed quietly as she followed behind for a moment. The smile that crossed her fast last long as it appeared before it slowly faded. "It’s not just that, though. It’s an escape. I mean, here, I’m a queen, a hero. Out there in the real world, I’m just hacking out code and chugging coffee all day long.”

“Now, wait a second.” You said. You stopped in your tracks as you reached out an arm to grab a hold of Charlie, making her do the same. “If it wasn’t for you, the boys would have never been able to take down Dick Roman. Out there in the real world, you are hero.”

Charlie couldn’t help herself but start to grow the slightest smile at your compliment, feeling as if it was an honor to hear such a thing from you. You returned the gesture before your attention was drawn away from her when a female spoke up, addressing the woman by her royal title. Along with yet another flirty smile with the proper bow. Charlie found herself momentarily distracted by the pretty face before she returned her attention back to you. You raised your brow slightly and gave her a curious look at how much attention she was getting from her fellow followers.

“I’m noticing a lot of these maidens are checking you out.” Dean muttered. He gave the young woman a slightly suggestive look at the options she might be able to choose from, and what her secret was to attract so much attention without even trying.

“How come you get the cute girls making flirty eyes with you and all I get is dudes in tights and this one being my guard dog?” You asked her, pointing over your shoulder to the man standing behind you from his behavior just a little earlier.

“What? I can’t shut this down.” Charlie said, smirking to herself. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you felt yourself smiling at her excuse. “It’s good to be queen.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a chuckle at her proud attitude as she headed off. Charlie was beginning to become quite the fun person to hang out with while the three of you went around talking to people dressed as all sorts of fantasy beings. You didn’t have very much luck with people figuring out what the symbol was you found on both of the victims arms. But when you approached an elf to see if she might know anything, unfortunately she didn’t. All though someone wouldn’t have call it a complete loss. Charlie worked her magic when she grabbed the photograph from the elf and started to subtly flirt with the woman.

“Well, if you think of anything, come see me in my tent. Anytime.” Charlie said to the elf with a smile that you’ve seen so many times before. The elf gave the queen a flirtatious wink before heading off back into her travels. When she was gone, you shook your head at Charlie’s fun she was having. “Scratch the elves off the list.”

All of you continued on your quest to talking to the different groups around here to see if you might be able to know anything. So far nobody had a clue what it was, but there wasn’t hope to be lost. You still had one more group of species to talk to, but they were the queen’s enemy. And a needle in a haystack to track down in this place. They might have been your only chance at figuring out what was going on here if Sam wasn’t going anywhere with the leads, but you weren’t going to lose hope just yet.

“Shadow orcs.” Charlie mumbled. “Last group on the list, impossible to find.”

“Wait, I know where we can find one.” Dean said, remembering the one he spotted in the stocks. “Y/N and I met him on the way in.”

“Perfect. Maybe he can tell us what the fack this thing is.” She said, gesturing a hand to the picture of the symbol that was causing all of you a hell of a lot of trouble more than it was worth.

It wasn’t too hard to find the shadow orc, he was still in the stocks where you last saw him after you arrived. While you had seen nothing but admiration and affection for Charlie, but it seemed not everyone would bow down to the queen. Because something in this little game wanted to have the throne. But you could still feel your emotions being tested at the not so nice things the orc was shouting out when he saw Charlie approaching.

“Death to the queen! Death to the usurper! Death to her manservant!” The orc went on with his threats that were meaningless as he was dangerous in the real world. In the game he was an opponent who wanted to take down the queen for her throne. Dean responded to the not so kind words by taking out his wooden sword and smacking the orc right against the head to make him grow quiet, the orc ever so quietly growled before your dirty look caused him to grow silent.

“What?” Dean found himself being scrutinized by Charlie from his actions that weren’t exactly nice. “Well, there’s no laptops in Moondoor. There’s no geneva convention, either.”

“Hey.” You said, grabbing the man’s attention. You reached out and pulled the photograph from the pouch that was looped around Dean’s belt to show the orc. "Have you seen this?“

"Yeah, of course.” The orc answered. Your response of a look of surprise at how easy you got him to crack caused him to realize that he had accidentally spilled important information that you and the queen might find useful. “No. No, I haven’t seen it.” He tried to backtrack, but there was no use. Dean placed the dull wooden blade up to the orc’s throat, pretending to threaten him if he didn’t spill the rest of his answer. “Okay, it’s the shadow king’s family crest. You’ll never find him in the Black Hills.”

“Black Hills?” You repeated the fictional location as you looked over at Charlie to specifically find out where it was.

“The forest behind the playground.” She said. “Come on.”

You and Dean wasted no time in following behind Charlie to see if you might be able to find the group who might have been the source to everything of what was going on. While the three of you traveled farther away from the park and started walking on a path that lead you deeper into the woods, you found a familiar face approaching you. You could feel a sigh building up in your throat at the dweeb who wasn’t much help to you and the boys when you arrived. You hoped the costume change to fit better into the setting would make him think you were playing along with the rules. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to you, his focus was solely on the redhead, the queen he was fictionally sworn to protect and respect.

“My queen. There you are. I’ve been searching everywhere for you. Has this…oaf attempted to harm you with his blasphemous metalworks?” The knight’s attention was drawn to Dean and his outfit that seemed like a perfect target to make fun of, considering his own was much better. You forced yourself to give him a smile when he looked in your direction, all you were fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “And my lady, I see you’ve found a more suitable attire.”

“Boltar, they’re with me. This is Dame Y/N. My most faithful and well trusted knight from many lands over. She’s come to join the honor guard. And this is my new…” Charlie felt it was easy to come up with a lie for you that was perfect enough to fool her fellow knight, but she struggling to come up with a decent one for the older Winchester standing next to her. “handmaiden.”

“Pleasure to be acquainted with you once more, sir.” You greeted the knight, returning the slight bow when he did the same to you after learning of your title. You pretended to play the part to fool him into thinking you were here to have a little fun. “I must apologize for earlier. My travels have made me and the queen’s…handmaiden weary. I came here fast as I could after hearing of the terrible tragedies that have been plaguing the kingdom. Like yourself, good sir, we’re here to serve and honor the queen during these troubling times.”

"We seek an audience with the shadow king.” Charlie said, stating the reason why all of you were here

“Uh, these hills are not safe. I beseech you, my queen,” Boltar spoke up in a cautious and slow voice, knowing he was overstepping his power as a knight to dare so tell what the queen to do. But it was her best interest for her safety. “You should return to camp.”

“I believe he’s right, your majesty. May the handmaiden and I have a moment with you before you take your leaving, madame?” You asked the redhead. She nodded her head and followed your lead when you turned around so your back was to Boltar, giving you a bit of a private conversation. “Handmaiden and knight? Huh. Talk about role reversal.”

“He was suspicious.” Charlie whispered. “I panicked.”

“All right, look. You take my phone. Find Sam. Y/N and I’ll find the shadow dorks.” Dean said, handing the woman his electronic device that would have been forbidden. You looked over your shoulder while the exchange was happening to give Boltar a friendly smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Charlie thought she could be more of use, but you would rather have her back at camp and out of trouble. “Yeah, you are helping by finding Sam. Go.”

Charlie wasn’t exactly pleased with the plan, but you didn’t give her much of a choice when you lightly shoved her forward to start walking back. When you started to see her making her way down the trail once more, you and Dean turned back to get this plan in motion. "Lead the way to the orcs, Bolty.”

“Speak when spoken to, handmaiden.” Boltar said, reminding the older Winchester of his very insignificant role. “This matter is for those who are qualified to handle such dangerous matters.”

Dean could feel the grip around the handle of the wooden sword tighten until his knuckles turned white. You couldn’t help but snicker to yourself when Boltar turned around to start walking in front to lead you and Dean into the hideout of these orcs. The older man felt out of his element here with a title that wasn’t powerful as he hoped for. Nevertheless, the three of you worked together in the queen’s absence to track down someone in the woods and ask them about the photograph. Twenty minutes of walking through dead leaves and broken branches turned out to be a waste of time. It seemed the only souls around were just the three of you.

“Well, that was a bust.” Dean said. “You sure the shadow orcs are even out there?”

“For a handmaiden, you certainly ask many questions.” Boltar said. It seemed he wasn’t used to such chatter from someone that was supposed to look after the queen’s personal needs. “Yes, I am positive. They’re just very good at hiding.”

“What if we’re going about this all wrong? I mean, why are we wasting our precious time trying to track down the shadow king? Why don’t we have him come to us?” You asked. “What if we take the shadow orc being held in stock and offer him as a prisoner exchange?”

“Draw him out and beat him down.” Dean said. You nodded your head when he guessed your plan, making him grow a smile at how quick you were engaging yourself in this, and how you were coming up with a plan that even he would have never thought of. “I like your style.”

"Boltar, retrieve the prisoner. Handmaiden, tend to the queen’s laundry and chamber pots. Meet me back here when your tasks are completed.” You instructed both of the men. Boltar nodded his head as he walked off to begin the task while Dean gave you a look, causing you to shrug your shoulders. You took a moment to scan the campgrounds in hope you might find the redhead, however you spotted Sam, who was approaching you and his brother with a smirk of amusement. "Ah, it’s Sir Samuel.”

Sam wished he had a camera right now to take a picture of you and Dean from how ridiculous you looked so he could remember this longer. "Nice outfits.”

“Laugh all you want, Sasquatch. But this has been kinda fun.” You said. “I know you’re jealous.”

“Right. Well, while you and the Handmaid’s Tale were playing dress-up,” Sam said, pulling open his jacket to fetch out a piece of paper from the inside pocket. “I found out that the mark—”

“Belongs to the shadow orcs.” Dean cut off his brother.

“Yeah.” Sam said. “And they’re using fairy magic.”

You grabbed the unfolded piece of paper from Sam to see that it was a printed article with the familiar tree on the very top middle of the page along with information about it. You skimmed the paragraph to get a gist of what you were dealing with. "The tree of pain. Awesome.”

“Whoever gets marked gets ganked.” Sam explained. You folded the piece of paper back up and asked him how you stopped this thing before someone else fell victim. “Find whoever cast the spell, and take them out. No more whammy, no more marks. No more marks, no more dead bodies.”

“Okay, well, perfect. Our pal Boltar the chatty is getting the shadow orc prisoner. We’re gonna do a little prisoner exchange, try to draw the king out of hiding. It was all Y/N’s idea.” Dean said. He felt himself growing the type of smile that you saw when he thought something was impressive or funny, but it seemed Sam wasn’t. You rolled your eyes as Dean peered over his brother’s frame, wondering why he couldn’t find the familiar redhead behind him like he thought. "Where’s Charlie?”

“She’s with you.” Sam said.

“No, we sent her to you.” You corrected the younger man. You ignored the younger man’s look of disbelief at your idea of letting the woman out of your sights. You didn’t let yourself panic just yet as you started to call out Charlie’s name as you headed to her tent, pushing back the curtains and peered inside. But there was nobody there. “These damn pants don’t have any pockets. I knew I should’ve brought my phone. She has Dean’s. Try it, Sammy.”

Sam pulled out his own phone and dialed his brother’s number and waited for Charlie to answer. But he didn’t get a single ring, only an automated voice telling him that the number he was trying to reach was out of service. Which wasn’t a good sign. Not a good sign at all. You knew you shouldn’t have let Charlie out of your sight and walked her back to the campgrounds. If you did, maybe none of this would be happening, and you didn’t put the queen you swore to watch over in danger.

\+ + +

Maybe it was your changing hormones, maybe it was your overworking imagination that was making you grow extremely antsy and bitchy. Time was starting to slip away from you now that it was dark outside when you and the boys, along with Boltar and the stupid shadow orc, traveled through the woods to find the shadow king to make your trade. Sam lingered behind in the small crowd with you, trying to reassure you that everything was going to be fine. You knew in the back of your mind that he was doing all he could to keep you from panicking. And while any other day you would have appreciated his help, you weren’t in the mood. You responded in the most mature way possible by rolling your eyes and scoffing his overly optimistic attitude that was starting to test your ever thinning nerves.

You had no idea do where Charlie could be. For all you knew she could be lying face down in a ditch. She could be dead. Worse, she was being tortured by whatever thing that was hurting and killing off players. Or…she could have simply been playing the game and these shadow orcs knew where she was.

Sam’s idea to try and make you stop from ripping through the woods and making yourself so stressed out. You threw him a dirty look, the kind to tell him to shut up if he knew what was good for him. Sam knew mood swings were a symptom of pregnancy. It was one of the red flags that got him thinking there was something going on with you. You were only eight weeks into this, making him slightly fearful how you were going to be when you got farther along.

“I swear, if anything happened to her…” You whispered to yourself. Your lips stretched into a frown as you roughly shoved a branch out of your way, only you did it with so much force, you broke it off the tree and let it fall to the ground. You deliberately stomped on the wood, letting your weight break it in half. Sam almost rarely saw you so worked up like this. The times that he did see you looking like you were ready to tear someone’s throat out was when someone you cared about was in trouble.

“Y/N, we checked all the tents. We’ll talk to these guys. We’ll find her.” Sam reassured you once again. You turned your head to give him yet another annoyed glare from his calming words. He noticed that Dean was walking a few feet ahead of you, giving the both of you a bit of privacy to talk freely about something he didn’t know about just yet. “You can’t stress yourself out like this. I’m sure she’s fine. Just relax.”

“Word of advice for the future Sammy, don’t tell a very hormonal pregnant woman to relax.” You nearly hissed out at him. Sam raised his hands slightly to show you that he was doing this to try and make you feel better. You forced yourself to inhale a deep breath to try and calm down. “I’ll be fine when we know Charlie is okay. I should have went with her back to camp. All of this could’ve been avoided.”

You could have walked back with her or not, but you knew it probably wouldn’t have changed much of anything. Maybe getting yourself in the same kind of danger she had. All of you stopped in the middle of the woods when you spotted a clearing, giving you some space for the prisoner exchange. The orc did what he was supposed to for his freedom, calling out to his fellow fictional species by using the special call they made up. Your face scrunched up slightly in confusion when you heard him starting to made a cawing sound. A few seconds later you heard an echoing noise come through the other side of the forest.

Three men stepped out from behind the trees, all of them dressed in black. You spotted the familiar tree of pain printed in the front and center of the king’s outfit. “Greetings, heretics.”

You crossed your arms over your chest when the shadow king attempted to be powerful and almighty when he dramatically threw back his cape and attempted to speak in a gravely tone of voice. But it was barely possible to understand him from the horrible fake teeth he was wearing. “You should kneel before me, cur.”

“All right, why don’t you let me—” Dean attempted to do his part by taking control of the situation, but he was quickly cut off by Boltar before he could let out another word. The older man almost forgot he was a simple handmaiden and had no voice in this very serious exchange, let alone, a voice for politics he wouldn’t understand.

“Silence! Now, before we exchange, a few announcements.” Boltar cut off the older man. He leaned forward slightly as the king knew that it was talk of taking a quick break to become their real selves. The shadow king took out his teeth and took a few steps forward to hear what Gerry needed to say. “Um, there is a peewee-league soccer playoff game tomorrow on the alpha field. We don’t want to freak out the mundanes, so we got to move the Battle of Kingdoms to the beta field.”

“All right. That’s it. You know what?” You muttered to yourself, going from beyond pissed to down right seeing red in your vision. “I’m gonna do this the old-fashioned way.”

“Y/N, don’t.” Sam warned you.

But you didn’t listen to him. Dean turned his head slightly when he heard Sam trying to stop you from doing something stupid. He had no idea what you were doing until he felt your hand slip into his pouch to grab something. Dean saw a flash of silver when the metal of his gun reflected in the light, making him realize you were about to do something drastic. Before anyone could stop you and Gerry told you there were rules that needed to be followed, you chose to ignore all of them. You were now standing in front of the men with a loaded gun pointed at the king.

“All right. I need real answers. This here is a real gun, see?” You demonstrated your fancy new toy that wouldn’t be invented for another couple hundred of years by shooting off a round. But instead of aiming it at the orcs, you warned them you weren’t fooling around when you shot it at the ground. The loud noise made the men jump a few inches in the air, making some kind of twisted satisfaction spread through you. Your lips stretched into a smirk asm the king threw his hands up in the air when you pointed the loaded gun in his direction. “Now, I suggest you start talking.”

“What is your problem, lady?!” The shadow king nearly yelled at you.

“Oh, you know. The usual. I have to pee. My feet hurt. These pants are too tight. I’m wasting my time talking to a grown man playing dress up.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “Now, I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go. You have five seconds to tell me where the hell the queen is, or so help me God, something you cherish is gonna get blown off!”

“I don’t know!” He said, you weren’t falling for that little lie.

“Yeah, well,” You waved the gun slightly as you pointed it at the symbol on his outfit. “Your little family crest there tells us a different story, pal.”

“This? Uh, I got sick last month after this thing just appeared on my arm.” The shadow king explained the origin . He pulled off one of his leather gloves as he pulled up his sleeve to show off the familiar symbol on his forearm. “I thought it looked really cool, so I turned it into my family crest. I mean, after my dermatologist said it wasn’t malignant.”

“Y/N, he’s not our guy.” Sam said. You lowered the gun as you rolled your eyes, knowing he was right. “He’s just another vic.”

“My name is Max Hilby. I’m an attorney. I have no idea where the queen is, but if you let me go right now, I won’t press charges.” Max said in the most calm voice he could use right now. You weren’t really going to do anything to hurt him, but it was sort of satisfying to see him cower in fear. You narrowed your eyes slightly on him. “I promise.”

You admitted your defeat when you were about ready to give the gun back to Dean, who was nothing more than pissed himself at what you did. Max tried to win you over by taking off his fake ears and handed them over to you, as if that was supposed to mean something. You gave him a baffled expression from why he would do such a thing. You didn’t want his stupid ears. You told them to go. But he stared at you, unsure if that was really what you wanted. You rolled your eyes and waved your gun forward in the direction where they came from, yelling at them in a more louder and aggressive tone to get out. You let out a sigh as you watched the three men disappear into the woods.

You turned around in your spot to face the brothers and the two others who were part of the game. You gave them all a look when they were staring at you with a mixed expression of slight anger and fear. “What?” You asked them. Dean gave you an annoyed look at your drastic move, you mocked him. “What? Not like any of you were doing anything to move this show along.”

“Is the queen really in danger?” The orc timidly asked after he took out his teeth to properly speak. You couldn’t help yourself by giving him a sarcastic look before nodding your head to answer his question. “Okay, look, I-I noticed something odd down by the creek. It’s this weird tent. It’s not one of ours. It’s kind of creepy.”

“Why are you being helpful all of a sudden?” Sam asked him.

“Look, I harbor an epic crush on the queen.” The orc admitted his reason why. You gave him a look of disbelief at his way of thinking that Charlie would ever be into someone like him. “Maybe you could put in a good word for me when you find her.”

“I hate to break it to you, dude,” You said. “but I don’t think you’re her type.”

You walked forward to the brothers so you could finally hand back the gun you stole from Dean. He shoved it out of your hands and put it back where you got it from. As you followed behind the boys to continue on your search for Charlie, that orc was still in the dark about why he would never have a shot at the queen. “What? You mean she’s not into orcs?”

You wanted to tell him the truth about why Charlie would never be interested in someone like him, but you didn’t have time right now with her still missing. You were sure he’d get the picture when he caught the queen mingling around with one of the fellow lady friends she caught the eye of just earlier today. You and the boys focused on continuing your search through the woods to find the tent that the orc was talking about. This was the last tent you knew of that she could possibly be in. and if she wasn’t in this one, you were back at square one.

“Why don’t you take off, Bolty? We got it from here.” You reassured the knight, knowing you were doing him more of a favor so he wouldn’t get himself in any kind of danger.

“A handmaiden and a traveler rescue the queen? Not to mention, a knight who has ‘hormonal’ issues, I presume? And you must wonder why few women are given such power.” Boltar said with a slight chuckle. You felt your hand tightening to into a fist at his snarky tone of voice that made you want to make him regret those words. Before you could start swinging, Sam placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to calm down. “I think not, kind lady.”

"Look, this isn’t a game, Boltar. The queen, our friend, is in real danger.” Sam warned the young man. “You could get hurt.”

“I will not leave my queen in peril.” Boltar stated. You rolled your eyes, mumbling underneath your breath that it was his funeral if something happened to him. You walked a few more steps before he spotted a tent just across the way and pointed towards. “Look there.”

“We haven’t checked that tent.” Dean said.

You and the boys headed to the tent to see if you might be able to find the missing red head that had been the reason why you were being so trigger happy. You stepped into the tent after the boys and looked around the place to see that it was almost like stepping into an actual room. The place was decked out with a fireplace and everything, along with candles and…a bed that a familiar face was occupying. You stopped in your tracks when you spotted Charlie herself, along with a woman you’ve never seen before…heavily making out.

You raised your brow slightly as your jaw opened up, as if you were about to say something. The woman you had spent the past few hours picturing in every kind of worse case scenario and hunting down all through the woods, even threatening people who had no clue what was going on, was actually perfectly fine. She was more than fine from the noises she was making. You crossed your arms over your chest as you cleared your throat, breaking her and who you could only guess was the fairy from their session. Charlie pulled away as she turned her head to see the brothers were staring at her with a slightly shocked expression while you narrowed your eyes slightly on her, wondering what the hell was going on here.

“Dudes.” Charlie muttered to you. “If the tent is rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’.”

You gave the woman a look, knowing the real reason why you were here in the first place was not to block her from getting some action, but because she’d been missing over the past few hours. And making out with the very thing that was causing all of this trouble. However the fairy wasn’t here willingly, it seemed someone was pulling her strings, forcing her to do heinous things. Your eyes wandered away from Charlie and to her when she jumped out from the bed, fear creeping into her expression at the sight of a familiar face.

“No, it’s him!” She exclaimed in a panicked tone. She clutched the bed post as she stared at someone standing behind you. “My master! Run!”

You turned around to see who was responsible for all of the accidents and two murders that were the reason why you came here in the first place. It was someone you had been interacting with all day, who you should have known was the problem all along. You watched as Boltar, who must have snuck into the tent when you weren’t looking, lifted down his hood to reveal his face. You rolled his eyes at the flare for dramatics as the boys wasted no time in drawing out their guns before he could do something to try and hurt either one of you. But it seemed all of you were thinking too logically here. You needed to get your head in the game if you wanted to win.

“No guns in Moondoor, gentlemen.” Boltar reminded the boys. “Gilda, if you please?”

All Gilda needed to do was wave her hand for the weapons to disappear right in front of your very eyes. You watched as they burst into feathers, taking you slightly off guard. But you were admitting your defeat just yet. You could easily win in a fist fight with this little dweeb. Even if he did have a fairy working for him against her will. There were ways around this.

“Well, now what, Gerry?” Dean sarcastically asked the man.

“My name is Boltar the Furious!” He reminded the older Winchester of what his real name was when he lost his temper, shouting his name at the top of his lungs. You weren’t the least bit scared. Hell, it was making you pissed off all over again. “My plan was, after getting rid of all of my competition, to win the battle tomorrow, convincing the queen that I should be her king. But then you three idiots showed up, and I was forced to improvise. Rescue the damsel in distress from orcs, become king, kill you three—that’ll work, too.”

"So why did you go from hobbling to murder?” Sam asked the man stuck in his own fantasy of the jump from a violent crime to ending someone’s life. There was always a reason why. Maybe he wanted revenge, to get more power.

“Greyfox and Thargrim became part of the honor guard. They got close to the queen, but they did it by breaking the rules—paying off players with real money, rather than Moondoor currency.” Boltar explained his reasons why that sounded logical in his head. But it only painted him more of a crazy person stuck in his own fantasy that he’d do anything to punish those who didn’t follow the rules. “They were cheating.”

“Oh, and using magic isn’t?” You wondered, thinking there was a lap of judgement in his thinking process.

“Magic is part of Moondoor.” Boltar reminded you. It was as if that alone justified what he did to all those poor people and dragged something powerful into this to get what he wanted. Because it was part of the game that he wanted to live in and make his own reality.

“What is your problem? Why would you hurt people?” Charlie couldn’t help herself but ask him. She was taken back herself at how dramatic and terrible of a human being she was discovering the man she once called a friend and a fellow player. “This is just a game.”

“There is no game! There is only Moondoor!” Boltar screamed on the very top of his lungs, losing control of himself when all of you tried to talk him out of the reality he wanted to live in. “I came here to be different, to get away from my crappy life, to be a hero, and guess what.”

“What, you were a loser in the real world, and you’re a loser here?” You guessed. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you got a chance to try and knock him down a peg. “Shocker.”

“Would a loser track down a real book of spells and compel a fairy to do his bidding?” Boltar asked you. You weren’t the least bit impressed at what he managed to do. It only fueled your desire to beat the crap out of him and put an end to this mess.

“It depends.” Sam said. “How’d you get it?”

Boltar fell silent for a moment as he found himself growing slightly awkward for the answer that didn’t sound as cool like he wanted. “eBay.”

“Look, it doesn’t have to be like this, Boltar.” Sam, always the one at trying to be the voice of reason, attempted to for Boltar to see that things might be able to end not so painful for him if he cooperated. “Just hand over the book of spells. We can work this out.”

“This will all work out…after I move you from the playing field and wipe her memory.” Boltar said, telling all of you how it was going to be. He stepped back to grab his sword that was nothing more than memory foam wrapped up in duct tape. While it might not have looked threatening right now, he was already one step ahead to get the real thing. “Gilda?”

Gilda unwillingly listened to her master, granting his wish for a real sword to help take down his enemies. Not that she wouldn’t make it a fair fight. Sam went for a sword when he saw one just across the tent, not too far from where he was standing. Boltar immediately knew what he was trying to do, and with another verbal command, the younger Winchester found himself being choked from behind by a suit of armor with its arms wrapped around his neck. Dean thought quick on his feet, grabbing a sword he found and shoved the shield in your direction to protect yourself.

Charlie, who had prior experience before with sword fighting in her time of larping, tried to take down the man, but she wasn’t strong enough, and went flying back to the bed. Dean thought he was more than capable of taking down Boltar. He went charging at the man, thinking his sword was in fact real. However he came to the conclusion that it was good as the wooden one he was carrying around when Boltar’s blade sliced right through Dean’s, cutting it in half. 

Thinking quick on your feet, and before Dean could get hurt, you jumped in front of the man and used the shield to block out the swing. You managed to block out three or so swings from Boltar, tiring him out just enough to get an advantage. You used the shield to shove him slightly backwards. When he was caught off guard from the move, you lowered the shield and did something you wanted to all day, you quickly swung up your fist and knocked him directly in the face. The blow was enough for him to go stumbling backwards and the book that caused all of this mess to drop to the ground. When you saw Charlie come out from the corner of your eye, you pulled out the only weapon that could fit into your outfit, a knife. You tossed it over to Charlie when you saw her going for the book to try and help save the day. You looked over at Gerry, who thought he was going to end up the hero at the end of all of this.

“Bet you didn’t see this one coming,” You taunted the man. “You misogynistic prick.”

“Hey, Gerry.” Charlie called out to the man to get his attention for what she was about to do. “I’m the one who saves the damsels in distress around here.”

Charlie wasted no time in stabbing the book to destroy it like how Gilda told her to do in order to break the spell. You quickly shielded your eyes from the sudden burst of light as Gerry yelled in anger at what the woman had done. Sam was free from the suit of armor, letting him breathe once more as the sword that Gerry was holding returned back to normal. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying to wipe off the smirk of victory that crossed your face at what you did. Gerry attempted to swing the sword in your direction, but Dean was faster than him.

The older Winchester grabbed the sword by the blade and yanked it right out of Gerry’s hand. And did the proper thing of punching the man so hard, he knocked Gerry out cold. He stared down at the man, waiting for any kind of sign to strike down at him again, but the man was out cold. Dean threw the foam sword to the ground. You raised your brow slightly at his heroic effort that you wouldn’t admit to him you always secretly found impressive. There was nothing you loved more than Dean being all protective over you and threatening to the bad guy, not that you couldn’t defend yourself.

“What?” Dean asked. “Told you I’d knock anyone if they tried anything on you.”

You shook your head as you gave him a wink when nobody was looking. “My hero.”

Dean wasn’t the only who helped save the day. Charlie got up from her feet and went straight to Gilda to make sure she was all right. “I’m free from the spell. You saved me. The hollow forest is forever in your debt.” Gilda told the woman. You turned your attention to the ending that almost seemed like it was out of a fairy tale. Heroine saves the damsel from the evil monster. But Gilda couldn’t stay. “I must return those green hills now. I will take my former master with me. He must face a fairy tribunal for his sins.”

Charlie understood what needed to be done. And she wanted nothing more than for justice to be served on the dick who caused so much suffering and pain. But before Gilda could go, the redhead wanted one last thing before the fairy went. Charlie pulled the fairy into another kiss, wanting to give one last one that she’d remember for a while. Gilda pulled away with a smile on her lips, giving one final farewell before vanishing from your sight. Charlie was left all alone, hopeful that maybe Gilda had phones where she lived to get in contact with her. Well, a girl could wish for a happy ending that involved a little fun.

\+ + +

Now that the problem around Moondoor was solved and people could freely play their game without having to worry about any “accidents” from happening, it was time for you and the boys to hit the road. Charlie was a bit sad to see all of you go after only spending a day and a half together. But there was still work that needed to be done. You and the boys were back in your normal clothes while you walked around the grounds with Charlie, wanting to make sure she was all right before you left her. Lucky for you, both of her arms were perfectly fine. At least you kept up with your promise of not letting that happen to her again.

“So what’s next for you, Charlie?” Sam curiously asked the young woman. “New town ? New identity?”

“If the last twenty-four hours have taught me anything, it’s that escaping isn’t what it used to be. No more replacement characters for me I got to face reality from now on. Sadly, reality actually includes monsters, but what are you gonna do?” Charlie said. You smiled slightly at her decision you knew wasn’t easy to come to realize. There was nobody better out there but yourself. And Charlie had to come to the conclusion the hard way. “If I can ever be of help to you guys, let me know.”

“Will do.” You reassured the woman. Charlie gave you a warm smile before taking a step to head off to her pressing matters in Moondoor that were calling her attention. But before she could go, you stopped her, wanting to make sure she was all right. “And you, you’re good?”

“Apart from the fact that you blocked me from banging a fairy, and I’m about to lose my crown in battle, thanks to my army being decimated? Yeah. Totally good.” Charlie said. She chuckled to herself at how cheerful she sounded, despite the suckish her life was about to be. As the woman began to make her exit, she made it a few feet before she turned around to face you and the boys, flashing you a familiar Vulcan salute. “Smell you later, bitches.”

“Hey, Red. Where do you think you’re going so fast?” You called out to the woman, getting her attention. She stopped in her tracks and looked over at you. “I don’t get a hug goodbye after the ass kicking we did last night?”

You headed over to Charlie to embrace the woman into a tight hug at all help she was. You mumbled another thank you to her as the both of you were momentarily distracted in your own personal talk, leaving the boys to wait behind for you to wrap up your goodbyes. Sam watched for a moment as you stood with a smile on your face, a genuine kind that he hadn’t seen in so long. It seemed you and Charlie had grown to become fast friends when you handed her your phone so she could give you her contact information to keep in touch.

“So, what’s next? ‘Cause no fun, right?” Dean asked his little brother. He reminded himself of how Sam wanted things to be for now, and much as it sounded like sarcasm, he understood the feeling of life letting him down. “Look, before you say anything, I get it. No amount of fun is gonna help you get over what you gave up. You just need time, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks. And you’re right. Having fun won’t help me.” Sam said. The younger man realized that wallowing in his own pity at what he had to give up wasn’t going to help anything. It wasn’t going to make him get over Amelia if he kept thinking about what could be. Because his life was about to change. And was reminded by you that life could change in an instant. Soon all of you weren’t exactly going to have an opportunity to have fun like this. You and Dean were his family, and in order to heal for the future, he had to let loose. “It’ll help the both of us. Shall we?”

Dean figured out what his brother was suggesting, and it took all of his will power not to break out into a smile. You headed back to the boys just a few short moments after Sam was willingly about to take part of the fight to defend her crown. You were about to open your mouth to say that you were ready to hit the road, but you found yourself asking where the hell Dean was going when he bolted forward to Charlie’s tent, needing to get himself ready for battle.

\+ + +

You’ve faced a lot of enemies in your time as a hunter, fought a lot of battles with monsters. But never in your time had you participated in one with foam swords while dressed in face paint and your hair pulled back out of your face. But you were having a damn good time, more than you had ever been before. And you were helping out your new friend, Charlie, keep her crown. You were back in your costume you were wearing yesterday with some accessories to help win the fight. And you were dead set on it. Dean felt like he was in his rightful place at the front of the crowd of Charlie’s army, getting them all pumped up to face battle like

"And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days, from this day to that, for one chance—”

Charlie, who was standing next to you and Sam, leaned over slightly when she found herself wondering why the older Winchester’s speech sounded so familiar to her. “Isn’t that the speech from—”

“It’s the only one he knows.” You whispered to her, Charlie nodded her head.

“Just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they make take our lives, but they will never take…” Dean was about to conclude the speech from Braveheart, but before he could, something came floating through the air, disrupting him. 

You almost forgot you were at a public park when a man came running up to fetch his frisbee that accidentally floated over to where the battle was about to take place. The guy apologized for the incident and went running off to continue on his game with his friends. Once he was gone and out of the way, Dean was allowed to finish his speech with a victorious ending that pumped up Charlie’s army. You felt a grin spreading across your lips as you let yourself become engrossed into the fight as you charged forward, forgetting about all the worries and troubles in the rear future. Charlie was onto something with this whole LARPing thing. It was fun to pretend to be someone else for a little while. And kick some ass that didn’t leave anyone hurt…too much.


	11. As Time Goes By.

Pregnancy was supposed to be a “beautiful thing.” Right at this very moment you were creating a new life, a future human that was half of you and half of Dean. While you carried on through your day and slept at night, in your womb the baby was growing its limbs and internal organs, its small little heart was beating away. Maybe it was a wonderful concept. And maybe the struggle would be worthwhile when you were at the end of all of this, with the newborn you carried for nine months cradled in your arms. But right now, from how your morning was going, you wanted pregnancy to be like the way you thought it was when you were six. Where a stork dropped a baby at your front door one day—and congratulations. You’re a parent. There was no morning sickness, no obnoxious symptom to disrupt your daily life.

You were pretty sure this was going to be your first—and only—child you were ever going to have in your life and you were already hating everything about it. You were barely scratching the surface of how symptoms you were going to experience. Not to mention, the body changes you were going to have along with the weight gain, and the worst of it all, the child birth you were going to have to endure for your little bundle of joy. You didn’t understand how women out there in this world who went through this multiple times in their lives just to have a family.

“Remind again why I want this baby?”

Sam grimaced slightly from the view he was being subjected to this morning with you face down in the motel toilet, doing everything in your power to make the churning feeling in your stomach go away. You had three glorious days of almost no symptoms that ended with you complaining about the smell of someone’s food being awful or you upchucking breakfast. Your streak was broken when you woke up with an upset stomach which you prayed would just remain as what it was. Your luck went sour like your stomach had after you managed to get dressed and ready for the day. This was where Sam found you after he came in your motel room to ask if you wanted breakfast. Your response was throwing up from just even thinking about the word.

“Relax. You have a few more weeks before the morning sickness is supposed to end.” Sam, who had been leaning against the door frame, reassured you that the worst would soon be over. Not like he was the one who had to endure this punishment. You lifted yourself up from the toilet to give the man a glare from his stupid facts. Before he could say anything, you found yourself quickly returning back to your position face down when another wave of nausea hit you. “When you’re done puking your guts out, make sure you take your prenatal.”

You gave the man a sarcastic thumbs up at the plan as you coughed one more time, getting the last remaining content of your stomach before it was empty. You waited a moment or two for you to gather some strength to lift yourself up from the toilet bowl and push yourself up into a sitting position. You flushed the toilet and contemplated how the hell you were going to get back up on your feet. All though you were starting to feel somewhat normal again, when you attempted to push yourself back up, you were still feeling a little bit dizzy. Sam outstretched his hand for you to grab ahold of so he could easily lift you back up without even breaking a sweat.

“Thanks for the helpful reminder, Mom.” You said. You walked past him and back into your motel room to wash the aftertaste out of your mouth when you fixed yourself a drink of tap water from the small kitchen area and spit it out into the sink after gargling for a few seconds.

"How’d you sleep last night?” Sam curiously asked. You shrugged your shoulder shoulders as you grabbed the light pink bottle from the counter top, thinking the man was just trying to make small talk. But it seemed he was checking up on how you were doing in the exact way you told him to stop doing. “Have you been getting enough?”

“You know, the five cups of coffee with the espresso shot and energy drink that I had yesterday really made it seem like it was gonna be kind of tough. But the handful of Xanax that I took really knocked me out last night.” You said. Your tone of voice was causal as you shook out one pill into the palm of your hand. Sam’s expression showed you that he wasn’t the least bit amused. “Yes, Sammy, I’ve been getting enough. I try to get at least seven hours, eight if I’m lucky. And if it makes you feel better, I took a nap yesterday from the drive out of Michigan and then crawled right into bed after we got to the motel.”

"Good. I’m just checking.” Sam said. You let out a sigh, knowing it was more than just being a concerned friend who was trying to make sure you were getting your recommended sleep. As you filled up your glass with more tap water to help swallow the pill, Sam found himself asking you another personal question. “Have you been making sure you’re drinking—”

“Yes, Sam! I’ve been drinking eight glasses of water. I avoid caffeine. I sleep much as I can and take naps when I don’t get enough. I’m trying not to get stressed. But you’re driving me up the wall and making me want to take a drink from all your questions!” You accidentally found yourself snapping at the younger man when you realized he was doing it again. He was being overbearing and obsessed with every move you made. You popped the pill into your mouth and took a sip to swallow it down. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate you being my midwife. I do. But I think you’ve just been…”

"Obsessed? I like the term helpful.” Sam said. His lips stretched into a small smile as you rolled your eyes. You knew that you would be a nervous wreck without his support. And things had been going smoothly over the past few weeks with him helping you keep track of everything and hold you accountable to the things you needed to do. You couldn’t help but feel there was another reason why he was being so helpful, other than for the sake of him doing it because this was your niece or nephew you were carrying. There was always more. “If I have to be honest, it’s been a good distraction for me. Another reason to remind me for what I had to do.“

"Is the baby the reason why you didn’t go back to Amelia?” You asked him in a dead serious tone of voice. You always wondered what really made him want to stick around after he had a life that he wanted for so long, with a woman he loved for the first time in a long while. “What if I wasn’t? Would have you stayed anyway?”

“It’s part of it. But it was the right thing that I needed to do. There’s still so much going on, and soon, it’s not just gonna be the three of us.” Sam said. His reasoning sounded legitimate and understanding. You nodded your head as you continued to finish the glass of water. “Speak of Dean, I convinced him to stay in town for another day. Said you weren’t feeling too good and needed to go to the doctors. I made an appointment at noon for us to see an obstetrician.”

You found yourself accidentally starting to choke on the water you were trying to swallow down after you heard the words come out of Sam’s mouth. “You, what? You had no right to go behind my back and do that! What if Dean finds out what really is going on?”

“He won’t. Not right now. I just want to make sure everything is fine with you and the baby.” Sam said. You felt yourself suddenly feeling a little stupid for the outburst you had when your mind wandered in the wrong direction. “You’re almost three months and you haven’t even been once. Don’t you want to be safe?”

"Obviously. I’ve been dying to take a peek at the thing that’s been making me miserable.” You mumbled. Your hand rested itself on your stomach as you felt yourself grow a smile at the fact you were going to be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time and its tiny little body on the ultrasound. “But it’s not like I had the time lately. Between runaway prophets, Cas acting all funky, not to mention you and Dean having your issues. My calender’s been kind of booked up.”

“Well, clear a few hours for me. I was thinking after we get done with the appointment we could have some lunch. Just the two of us.” Sam suggested. “You know, if you’re done puking your guts out.”

Sam had you thinking the afternoon could have been a nice and sweet bonding time between the both of you, as this was going to be the first spur of the moment appointment you should of had weeks ago, but then he kept on talking. You mocked his smile at his sense of humor and nodded your head for him to start walking out the motel room. after you slipped on your shoes to head to the boys’ room that was next door to yours. Dean had been getting ready while Sam was questioning your every life choice you had been making over the past few days.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Dean greeted you in his usual way, his boots in his hand. You smiled at him as you attempted to walk past him and to the bed, but you found yourself being pulled back lightly by Dean when he grabbed you by the wrist. You knew exactly what he was trying to do when you saw him leaning forward for a kiss, but for his own safety, you turned your head slightly so his lips hit your cheek instead. He gave you a slightly confused expression at your odd behavior this morning. “What? My morning breath that bad?”

“No. I’m not feeling all that great. Didn’t want you to catch whatever I have.” You said. You rubbed your stomach as you made your way over to one of the beds to sit yourself down. “I think the diner food I had last night is messing with my stomach or something. Or maybe I have the stomach bug or something. I heard that’s going around.”

“Really? Weren’t you not feeling too good a couple months ago? Come to think of it, you haven’t been acting all that right for a while now. Maybe you should go to the doctors.” Dean said, agreeing with the plan his brother had discussed with him last night after arriving at the motel that was only supposed to be a one night stay. “You know, I can take you if you want—”

“No!” You found yourself cutting off the man from his generous offer from your personal panic at the thought of him going anywhere near the appointment Sam had made for you. Dean’s slightly taken aback expression made you realize what you had done. Your lips stretched into a smile as you composed yourself to give him the fake reason why so he would back off. “No, that’s okay. I know you said you wanted to head into town to get some supplies. And complaining last night that you never get any time to yourself. Sam can take me. We’ll be gone for a few hours. It works out.”

"I mean, I was kidding about the whole ‘alone’ time. We were stuck in the car together for ten hours. But I got a good night’s sleep. I’m ready for the day to be wasted in Urgent Care.” Dean said. His words might have sounded like sarcasm, but he was offering up the chance to help figure out what was going on with you. He gave you a smile, wondering if it might help convince you. “I can make Sam do the supply run.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dean. It’s fine.” You reassured him, brushing off his offer. “Right, Sammy?”

“Yeah. Totally.” Sam said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dean felt the slightest bit disappointed at the idea of not taking you, his girlfriend, to do the one thing that he should do when you weren’t feeling well. Instead it was his brother who was doing it. Come to think of it, he noticed that you and Sam were acting awfully close these past few weeks since he decided to stay. Closer than normal. Like this morning when he was getting ready. Sam headed over to your motel room after getting ready. Normally the younger Winchester was the early riser, you were next and Dean crawled out of bed a short while later. All of you ended up in the same space to try and wake up with your morning coffee before getting a start on the day. But lately the routine changed. 

During the times that you and him shared a motel bed he always woke up with you still sleeping right next to him, or still in the same room. But he found himself back to the same sleeping arrangements with his brother like how it used to be while you wanted to bunk alone. And yet he always still found himself waking up with nobody. You and Sam were in your room having a full blown conversation. When he got himself ready and headed over, the second he stepped into the room, the both of you instantly fell silent. And when Dean asked what you were talking about, you always responded with “nothing.” 

Dean didn’t know why, but he felt a little bit…left out. It was like he was thrown out of the loop about what was going on. And it seemed like it was important. He knew things between him and his brother were a little bit rough over the past month since he gave up the lifestyle he wanted. Things were slowly getting better every day. But for some reason he found himself feeling like he was being excluded from a secret that you wouldn’t tell him. Maybe it was all in his head. You and Sam could have been discussing the simplest of topics that he might not have been interested in. Yet each time he tried to figure out what you were talking about, you brushed him off that it was just “nothing” or you changed the subject completely. It was nothing, Dean tried to reassure himself.But he didn’t know why that little white lie wasn’t helping him feel better.

Dean mocked his brother at his offer when the man turned his back to go to the bathroom as you sat down on the bed, distracted by your phone when it buzzed a few times to notify you of a new text message. Dean sat himself down on the chair and went to put his shoes on. You felt your lips stretch into a smile at the familiar names pop up on your screen, it was Charlie getting back to you after the both of you had been texting over the past few days since you left the festival to help keep her crown. And the other was from Josh, who wanted to check up on you after not hearing you from so long. You and the boys fell into a moment of silence doing your own things, and as you were writing out a response to Josh to reassure him you very much alive, your attention drifted away from the screen when you heard what to be rattling.

You wondered where it was coming from in the room, expecting it to be near the wall closest to the parking lot when a noisy car was drifting by. However you noticed that it was coming from the most odd place of all—the motel closet door You furrowed your brow in absolute confusion when you heard it open and slam shut without anyone touching it. You tucked your phone back into your pocket when you saw a complete stranger was crouching down on the ground. No rhyme or reason of how he got here. You slowly looked over at the boys, wondering if you were losing your mind. But they were taken back at the stranger in their room.

“Which one of you is John Winchester?” The stranger asked. The three of you responded with blank expressions as you pushed yourself up to your feet as he did the same. But your silent response to a man who had been dead for years wasn’t what he wanted. “Please, time is of the essence! Which one of you is John Winchester?”

“Uh,” Sam gave the man a verbal answer. “Neither.”

“That’s impossible. That’s absolutely…” The man muttered underneath his breath, his eyes falling to the ground as he began to think to himself at what step he must have messed up. Your eyes drifted to the boys for a moment, wondering what in the hell was going on here. He wiped his nose, which you noticed was dripping a little bit of blood. “What did I do wrong?”

“Who the hell are you, mister?” Dean questioned the man.

“Not now. I’m thinking.” The man said, brushing off the three of you as if you weren’t here. Dean did what any smart hunter would do, he slammed the stranger straight into the closet door he jumped out of, pinning him so he couldn’t run or do anything stupid. But it seemed the stranger wasn’t here to hurt you. “Please. I can assure you there’s no need for violence. One of you must know John Winchester.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Sam said. “when one of us falls out of your closet, then you can ask the questions.

“Yes, my apologies.” The stranger as polite enough to correct his behavior before he directed his attention to the older man that had his forearm pressed against his chest. Is it absolutely essential, sir, that you keep your hands on me?” Dean’s eyes narrowed on the man, as if he was showing that he wasn’t hesitant to pull any moves on him if he had to, but he backed away from the stranger. He pulled out a white handkerchief from his suit pocket to wipe his nose clean. “Thank you. Lady and gentlemen, in the absence of any and all other explanations, I’m afraid this has been a marvelous, tragic misunderstanding. I’ll be on my way.”

Sam stepped in front of the man, stopping him from going anywhere. “That’s not happening.”

“There are things of grave importance.” The stranger said. It seemed he was growing impatient and frustrated from being stopped to complete what he was trying to do. But you weren’t exactly pleased at seeing an unfamiliar face jumping out of the motel room closet. “I do not have time to deal with the likes of you.”

The man tried to step past Sam to get to the door, but in the matter of seconds, Dean whipped out a pair of handcuffs and worked with his brother to get the man pinned down so they could cuff him. “You’re not going anywhere, double oh seven.” Dean said. “Till we get some answers.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the brothers try to cuff the stranger to the motel chair. There was a bit of a struggle between all of them, but when you heard clicking, you thought the stranger was going to be safely secured. However he managed to pull a fast one, somehow cuffing the boys to the chair together. You were too distracted from what just happened, letting the stranger slip away outside. It seemed the stranger who looked like he just jumped out from the "Mad Men” time period knew a few moves.

“How did he do that? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean grunted. He struggled to get himself out of the cuffs along with his brother, but it was no use without the key. “You gonna stand there and stare at us Y/N, or are you gonna help us?”

“Nah. I think I’m gonna watch you two Houdini your way out of this one. I’ve always wanted to learn how you get out of handcuffs so quickly.” You sarcastically replied. Dean didn’t think you were the least bit funny. You rolled your eyes and made your way over to the bag where he got the cuffs from to get the key and help them get free. “Relax. Don’t get your boxers in a twist.”

You helped the brothers get free from the cuffs after you found the key buried deep in one of the pockets. After you did so, the three of you wasted no time in heading out the motel door to see where the stranger wandered off to on foot. You scanned the parking lot to see if you might be able to find a distant figure trying to make a run for it to go where ever he expected to find a dead man. But he wasn’t going anywhere on foot. He was trying to hot wire the Impala. Dean wasted no time in creeping up on the man when he was leaning over to pull out a few wires to try and hot wire up the engine. Before he could be successful, the sound of the safety going off Dean’s gun made him stop.

“Nice taste in wheels.”

The man sat up straight in the seat, knowing well enough there was no way out of this one. He could try, but it would only end up with a bullet through his skull. “Yours, I presume?”

All of you were back in the motel room with the man with no game, who demanded to know where the late John Winchester was. You stood back with Dean as Sam conducted the usual experiments on the stranger to make sure that he wasn’t a monster. He was cut with a silver knife and doused in a bit of borax to cross off shifter or a leviathan. The last step was holy water, which the only reaction he gave was a slight chuckle, seeming to know exactly what it was you were testing him for. He was clean of everything you hunted.

“I could have told you that.” He replied as he pulled down his suit sleeve to cover the slice mark on his arm that proved he wasn’t any monster who was affected by silver.

“Yeah, well, you can start by telling us everything before I beat it out of you.” Dean said, pushing himself up to his feet and approached the stranger with his gun still in his hand.

“I’m quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha-male-monkey friend.” The stranger thought it was a smart enough to make insults to the man who was holding a loaded weapon. You crossed your arms over your chest as he continued talking as if you were too stupid to understand much of anything. “And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier.”

“Let me tell you what I understand!” Dean shouted at the man. He pointed the barrel of the gun directly at the stranger when he was now leaning down at his level, his other hand holding a fistful of his jacket. “Some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad, smashes up my ride. So why am I not getting violent, again?”

“John Winchester is your father?” The stranger asked. He sounded rather surprised, like he had no idea the man he was looking also had a few children of his own. You were starting to wonder who he was and where he came from. Before you could ask for any formal introductions, you found your gaze wandering away from the man when you felt the ground beneath your feet starting to shake again. You looked over your shoulder to see that it was coming from the closet door again, the exact same place where the stranger jumped straight out of. He jumped out of the chair when he realized what was going on. “Oh, my God.”

“What?” You asked him, having a feeling he knew what was coming.

He tried warning for you and the boys to run, but it was too late for that. The motel closet door swung open on its own, and yet another person came walking straight through, but this time, it appeared to a woman dressed like she was straight out of the fifties. You noticed from the style of her dress and the pearl necklace. What caught your attention was the blood stains all over the pale blue fabric. You had a feeling it didn’t belong to her. The woman eyed all of you for a moment before directing her attention to the man you were trying to interrogate just moments ago. But it seemed from the turn of events he wasn’t the enemy here, she was.

“Henry. Silly man, you forgot to lock the door. But then spells were never your best subject, were they?“ The woman spoke directly to the stranger you knew as Henry now. She moved her gaze away from the man and towards the sight of three unfamiliar faces. Dean might have been holding a loaded gun, but she didn’t seem the least bit fearful. "Why don’t you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends quickly.”

“You know I can’t do that.” Henry told her.

Her lips stretched farther into a smile, “You’re not a fighter, Henry.”

When a mysterious woman covered in blood comes through your motel room closet door, you didn’t think it was a smart enough to engage in conversation with her. Dean attempted to take his shot when she was momentarily distracted, but she proved herself to a woman of many talents, and something that wouldn’t be the least bit harmed with a simple gun. With the simple flick of a wrist, you and the boys found yourself flying backwards across the motel room, your back colliding with the wall before you dropped to the hardwood floors.

You felt yourself momentarily distracted by the pain you felt in your backside before you rolled to your side. You pressed a hand to your stomach as your mind instinctively remembered about the very thing inside of your body that could be lost due to something like this. Being flung across the room and falling was going to leave a lot more damage than just some bruises. You had a couple tumbles here and there, but nothing bad as this. As pain in your backside began to subside, you began looking for any warning signs that something could be wrong—cramping, severe back pain. But you felt fine, the breath knocked out of your lungs started to come back.

“Josie.” Henry tried talking to the woman he must have known, who was possessed by a demon if you had to take a guess. “I know you’re still in there.”

“I’m afraid Josie’s indisposed, pet.” The demon mocked the man. “It looks like it’s just you and me.”

The demon laughed at Henry’s attempt to reach his friend that was buried deep inside her own skin. She might have thought that she was in control here, but little did she realize that you had something to kill her once and for all. Dean crept up behind the woman and shoved the demon knife straight into her back.. You heard her let out a piercing scream of pain when she felt the blade being shoved into her backside as she dropped to her knees before Dean yanked out the weapon. Ruby’s knife had never failed you once when it came to killing a demon, but it seemed like this wasn’t the case here. Josie huffed out a heavy breaths as she placed her hand on the lower of her back, easing herself through the pain before she somehow went back to normal.

“What in the fresh hell is going on?” You found yourself muttering underneath your breath. You stared at the demon just across the room who was still breathing, and fully recovered from a wound that should have killed her. When you saw Sam coming forward and helping you back up to your feet, you quickly grabbed a hold of his hand and tried to distance yourself from her far as possible.

“Well,” The demon composed herself as she inhaled another deep breath when the pain finally subsided. “That is no way to treat a lady.”

You didn’t exactly want to stick around to see if one more stab wound might be the one to kill the demon once and for all. You had a feeling it would be like poking the beast before she decided to rip you all apart limb by limb. Sam yanked on your arm and nearly pushed you forward so you were in front of him and he could follow right behind. The both of you raced out the front door with his brother and Henry, making a run for it before the demon could decide she wanted a bit of revenge.

You nearly threw yourself into the back and crawled across the leather seats to give Sam much room as you could before he was getting inside himself fast as he could. Dean turned on the engine and backed out of the parking lot in a lightning fast speed, and before you were even prepared, he slammed on the gas pedal, getting all of you the hell out of here. You sank into your seat as you inhale a deep breath from everything that was going on faster than you could keep up with. As the motel began to grow nothing more than a distant landmark in the rear view mirror, you looked over at Sam, having a feeling you weren’t going to be making it to that doctor’s appointment after all.

\+ + +

Dean decided to make the choice of driving into the outskirts of town to give all of you some distance from the demon. It gave you enough time to catch your breath and figure out what was going on, and why she wasn’t affected by the knife. The Impala came towards a stop when Dean parked it at least a few miles away from any near places, giving you at least some privacy. You got out of the backseat along with Sam, Henry was the first one out as he bolted straight out to the grassy fields where he could freely get sick from what was going on. You grimaced when you heard the familiar noises you were making just a short time ago. You looked away when he coughed up the contents of his stomach straight to the ground.

“Can you kinda not do that?” You muttered underneath your breath. “I already puked once this morning. I would rather not do it again.”

“Are you okay?” Sam asked the other man, deciding to be the one to show a bit of concern.

“Yes, I will be.” Henry reassured all of you. He pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket once more to wipe away the bile from around his mouth to compose himself and get back up to his feet. “It’s just all the adventures I enjoy are usually of the literary nature.”

“Yeah, well, now that you’re done blowing chunks, you want to tell us who Betty Crocker was?” Dean questioned the man, thinking it was about time all of you got some answers to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Abbadon.” Henry answered. “She’s a demon.”

“No kidding. Where’d she come from?” You asked him. “And while we’re at it, where did you come from?”

“She’s from hell.” Henry said. Your face fell in annoyance at the blatant answer you could have figured out for yourself. He adjusted his suit sleeves and continued on answering your questions about himself. “I’m from Normal, Illinois—1958.”

“Yeah, right.” Dean smiled slightly, thinking the man was pulling his leg for the hell of it. Henry responded by giving the older Winchester a deadpan stare. When you realized the man was telling the truth, you let out a sigh, wondering how your life always kept getting stranger and stranger the more you stayed in this hunting business. “Seriously? Dude’s time traveling through motel room closets? That’s what we’ve come to?”

“Well, think of it this way,” You said, trying to see the silver lining of this situation. “at least the crazy is coming to us this time.”

“If you could just take me to John, we could clear all this up, I’m sure.” Henry said.

“I’ve told you that’s not gonna happen.” Dean said in a sharp tone. Henry had the audacity to ask why he couldn’t. The older Winchester was feeling himself being pushed to the edge of what his patience would allow himself to handle before he lost it on the stranger he only knew the first name of and the year he was from. And for some reason he wanted to see a man that had been long gone. So, Dean turned to the man to tell him the cold, hard truth. “Because he’s dead!”

Henry’s face dropped from the information that made it seem like his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach just from the expression on his face alone. He found himself muttering no underneath his breath only for him to hear as he turned around, his back to the three of you. You furrowed your brow slightly from his reaction that seemed rather odd. John could have only been so young back in the late fifties. You didn’t understand why this Henry person traveled fifty-five years into the future to see him.

“What’s it to you?” Sam asked the man.

“Everything.” Henry said. “I’m his father.”

You felt yourself being thrown through a loop at what you just heard. You’ve traveled back in the past twice to meet Mary and John when they were still a young couple, you’ve even met the boys’ grandparents on their mother’s side. But you’ve never had the pleasure of meeting John’s father, who you heard walked out on the family when he was a young child. And here the man was, somehow in the year 2013, time traveling and dragging along demons with him. 

In this very moment you were standing next to two Winchester generations. And if that wasn’t weird enough, you were carrying the future generation that would be brought into this in the next seven and a half months. There was one question that crossed your mind; What the hell were you getting yourself into with this family?

\+ + +

This morning when you woke up and got ready for the day you weren’t sure what was going to be on the agenda. Maybe keep your breakfast down long enough so it would digeste. Relax for a little while and do some research to find a case to keep yourselves busy. Check up on Kevin to see how he was doing and if he might have made any sort of progress with translating the tablet. But all in your jumbled thoughts and endless list of things to do never once did it cross your mind you were going to meet Henry Winchester, the boys’ grandfather on their father’s side of the family, who happened to time travel five and a half decades in the future to see his son again—who had been dead for seven years. 

You weren’t a stranger to time traveling and meeting relatives decades into the past before you weren’t even born. Or, in a case that happened a few years ago who went back in time to make sure you and Sam never existed, you met Mary when she was pregnant with Dean. Which was an odd situation that you thought would never be able to be topped. Until today. The crazy was coming to you this time. Along with a demon who couldn’t be killed, not even slowed down, by a knife who had took down what felt to be hundred of her own kind. But the weirdest part of this all was that you were about to sit down and have lunch with Henry. 

You excused yourself to the bathroom when you felt the urge to pee calling for your attention once you got to the diner, along with other matters that had been creeping in the back of your mind since being thrown against the wall. You rushed into the stall and pulled down your pants, half thanking your past self for wearing a light colored pair of underwear. You hadn’t gotten your period in two and a half months, but you knew bleeding wasn’t a good sign other than a droplet here and there. But you hadn’t had any spotting since you found out. Luckily you saw nothing on the fabric and your back was still a little bit sore, yet nothing to be too concerned about from all the symptoms you read up online to prepare yourself for the worst. 

There was no severe backaches or cramping since you left the motel. Your symptoms were still persistent from your nausea, along with your mood that was jumping all over the place as usual. The symptoms you were complaining about just a few hours ago made you let out a sigh of relief from how they were sticking around. It was like a sign from the goddess of fertility to shut up and be happy for being able to get pregnant in the first place. You knew there were women out there who would do anything to be in your position. And you would do anything to make sure this baby was okay. Even if it meant you had to feel a little sick while you ate lunch. 

You finished your business in the bathroom with a clear head now that you were reassured there was no warning signs you needed to worry about at the moment. When you headed out to the diner, you spotted Henry at the table next to the window, engrossed with his own thoughts. As you started to make your way through the crowded place and towards the boys, Sam noticed you approaching him and his brother. He waved his hand in the air slightly to stop you so he could leave his brother alone for a moment as he was ordering lunch for all of you. You moved over to an empty spot in the restaurant as Sam approached you, having a feeling you knew what he wanted to talk about before he even asked. 

“Hey.” Sam said. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore from being thrown around by Raggedy Ann.” You admitted to the younger man as you rubbed the lower part of your back when you felt a twitch in the muscle. Sam’s expression faltered slightly at what you mentioned, making him panic like you had earlier before. You gave him a smile of reassurance that it was nothing to be of concern. “Don’t worry. I still feel sick and my boobs hurt. There’s no spotting. No cramping. The baby is still in place.” 

“Good. That’s good.” Sam mumbled. He let out a sigh of relief at the news that helped settle his own restless mind when he knew you and the baby were okay. He wiped his mouth with his hand and rested them on his hips. “Still, I think you should go to the doctors just to be safe." 

"Right. Let’s slip away to leave your brother alone with your grandfather and while there’s a demon out there who didn’t even slow down when Dean stabbed her with the knife.” You said, making sure to drop your voice to a whisper so nobody in the diner could overhear you. “I know it’s not ideal to ignore this. But it’s not my first time I’ve…you know. Took a tumble." 

"And you’re fine?” Sam asked you.

“So far. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking Lady Luck is on my side. Or, God is paying me back for all the crap his son put he through.” You said, posing a few theories that explained how you were able to do your job as a hunter while still in the first trimester. You looked around the diner to see that Dean was looking over in your direction, looking rather invested in what you were trying to say. You gave the man a smile from across the way. “Your brother is staring our way. I think we should head back before he starts to read my lips and come up with some sort of crazy ideas.” 

Sam agreed. The both of you made your way back to the counter where Dean had been waiting for the past few minutes by himself. He tried his hardest not to poke his nose where it didn’t belong. It could have been nothing of what you and his brother were talking about. But when you made your way over to him, the question slipped out of his mouth in a causal tone. "What were you guys talking about back there?”

“Oh. Sam was showing me Henry’s I.D. to take a look at. Just wanted a second opinion.” You lied to the man. You looked over your shoulder to take a quick glance at the man before turning your attention back to his grandchildren. “I’m pretty convinced he’s telling the truth.” 

“Driver’s license says he’s Henry Winchester from Normal, Illinois. He knows Dad’s birthday, the exact place where he was born.” Sam added more reason to believe this was too good not to be true. “Dude, that’s our grandfather.” 

“I’m just saying before we break out the warm and toasties, let’s not forget that H.G. Wells over there left Dad high and dry when he was a kid.” Dean reminded his brother. 

“I don’t like to insert myself in family drama, but,” You spoke up. Dean gave you a look that read along the lines of him not believing such a thing. All you ever did was place yourself in these kind of situations, not that you weren’t apart of this family. “Maybe he didn’t run out on your dad—I mean, not on purpose. Maybe he time-traveled here and, I don’t know, got stuck.” 

“Yeah, well, either way, Dad hated the son of a bitch.” Dean muttered. 

“And Dad made up for that how?” Sam asked his brother. “By being Father of the Year?”

Dean fell silent when he saw the worker who took his order come back with two trays of food and placed them on the counter. You gave her a smile and thanked her before she walked away to attend her other customers. “Look, Dad had his issues, okay, but he was always there for us.” Dean said. You wouldn’t agree to the full extent of that, but you kept your mouth shut and stole a fry off Dean’s food before making your way over to the table. “I freaking hate time travel, man." 

You made your way over to the table and sat down on one of the stools, across from the boys’ grandfather—something that you were still trying to wrap your head around saying. Even though it felt odd. Samuel Campbell, Mary’s father, looked about the part of being the boys’ grandfather. He was old and bald. But Henry was someone you met two and a half years back after he was brought back from the dead. He looked the part of being the boys’ grandfather. He was old and bald. But Henry was young, and reminded you so much of his son from his looks. You gave the man a warm smile when he happened to look up from the table and to your direction. 

“How are you doing?” You asked him, wondering how he was handling the situation you sure he wasn’t expecting to find after traveling so far into the future. 

“I’ll be fine. After all, despite everything, I’ve just met my grandsons, haven’t I?” Henry wondered himself. He decided to use his manners that he was taught from his parents and stretched his arm across the table to formally introduce himself. “Henry Winchester. It’s a pleasure.” 

“Sam.” introduced himself, shaking his grandfather’s hand. 

"Hello, Sam.” Henry said. The man attempted to keep the formal introductions when he moved his attention over to the older brother. Dean made no attempt at being cordial with the man. He stared at his grandfather with a blank expression. Not wanting to leave Henry feeling awkward with his hand floating in the air, you outstretched your arm for him to shake it. 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You introduced yourself to the man. You gave him another smile before you pulled your hand away and placed it on the shoulder of the brother who refused to be the slightest bit nice to his own flesh and blood. “And this ill-mannered one is Dean. Your oldest grandson.” 

“Right. Well, this has been touching.” Dean said. He showed no trace of hope for you that he was going to try and be the slightest bit nice to his grandfather when he jumped straight into business. “How about we figure out how to clean your mess, huh?”

“Abbadon. Yes.” Henry agreed. “She must be stopped.” 

“And how come she didn’t die when I stabbed her?” Dean wondered. 

“Because demons can’t be killed by run-of-the-mill cutlery. At the very least, you’d need an ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds.” Henry explained. You found the way he was speaking to you a little patronizing. Dean stopped eating for a moment to show his grandfather the knife he had tucked in his pocket that he attacked Abbadon with. Henry’s expression changed slightly when he saw the exact weapon he was talking about. “Where’d you get that?”

“Demon gave it to me.” Dean answered his grandfather. You casually looked around the diner to see anyone noticed what you were doing, everyone was too caught up in their own conversation to pay attention to the four of you. He shoved the knife back into the inside pocket of his jacket. “We’ve been around this block so many times." 

“Now, that portal—or whatever it was you came through—is it still open?” Sam asked. 

“I highly doubt it.” Henry answered. “Why?”

"I’m just thinking if we can’t kill this Abbadon, maybe we can shove her back where she came from.” You proposed a possible idea to solve this problem if the knife wasn’t going to work like how it normally does. You’d just have to get creative. “We’re no stranger to time travel. But we always had some extra help. How did you manage to do it on your own?”

“It’s a blood sigil. Blood leads to blood. Or their next of kin.” Henry said, correcting himself when the spell lead him to family too far into the future he wasn’t expecting to ever meet. You placed a hand on your stomach when the table hid your actions, having a feeling the baby might had to do something with it as well. 

“But Abbadon came through also, right?” Sam asked. “So can you create the blood sigil again?”

“My blood, an angel feather, tears of a dragon, a pinch of the sands of time—I would need those…” Henry said. He listed off the ingredients he would need to collect in order for this to work properly. “At least a week for my soul to recharge, but, yes, it’s possible." 

"You tapped the power of your soul to do that?” Sam asked his grandfather, sounding rather surprised at how a simple human could do such a thing. “I thought only angels could do that.”

“You should know this. What the level are you three?” Henry’s question made a confused look cross your face. You furrowed your brow slightly as you repeated after the man, wondering what he was talking about. “Level of knowledge. You’re Men of Letters, correct?”

Your face scrunched up tighter from the way the man was talking, as if it was a language you’ve never heard of before. You looked over at Sam to see that he was just as confused as you were. Dean dropped his food that he had been chewing back to his plate and wiped his hands. I’m a little rusty on my boy bands.” The older Winchester said. “Men of what?”

“Men of Letters. Like your fathers, who taught you our ways.” Henry said. Neither one of his grandchildren seemed to understand what the three words meant, or take pride in the title they should have known about. “Y/N, your grandfather, Andrew was one as well. Surely his children followed in his footsteps and kept the tradition going with you as well.”

“Grandfather?” You repeated back the man’s words in a slightly confused tone. It seemed Henry thought the man you knew had a very different family title than you expected, thinking it was closer than his. He thought Andrew had another child. Your lips stretched into a small smile as you corrected him. “You mean my father? The one who knew nothing about the supernatural. He…well, it’s sort of a complicated story about him. But there’s no way he was a Men of Letters. Whatever that is.”

“That’s impossible.” Henry said. It was his turn to smile ever so slightly as he started to let out a quiet chuckle, as if you had told him a joke. Your ever slowly hardening expression told him a different story. His smile fell quick as it came. Soon yourself growing a bit uncomfortable when the man, who claimed to have known your father, stared at you for a long moment. As if he was pointing out the features that matched perfectly with the same man he claimed to have personally known. “We knew Andrew was always heavily invested into his studies. But surely, he didn’t get himself too caught up and settled down at an unreasonably old age…”

Henry looked to be about in his early thirties from the looks of it, and from what you could remember about the fifties, it was still common for people to marry young and start on their families. You took away from 1958 to 1981 when you were born and there was a twenty three years of time gone. Either Henry presumed your father settled down at an old age, he didn’t realize Andrew found a secret to staying young. Or he was thinking of someone very different. 

You knew how to solve this misunderstanding once and for all. You took off the locket that was once your mother’s that you wore almost every day since you were given it as a gift from Dean. You opened up the clasp to open up the locket and showed the man a picture of someone he claimed to have known over fifty years ago. Dangling the locket by the silver chain, you nodded for him to take ahold of it so he could look at the pictures.

“Is that the Andrew Y/L/N you’re talking about?” You asked him. 

Henry peered close at the photographs meticulously cut in the shape of the locket to fit them in a photograph of you as a small child, another was of you and your father, the very last one ever taken. The man’s brow furrowed as he stared at the photograph for a few seconds before looking back up to you. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly him." 

"Well, that’s kind of a mighty weird coincidence. Let’s just say my father wasn’t exactly human. He was a lot like Abbadon. You see,” You leaned forward slightly as you explained your very strange family history to the man. “the Andrew Y/L/N you claim to know was a demon up until the seventies. I’m guessing. Somehow got changed back into a human being. How? I don’t really questions those kinds of things. He met my mother in 1971, got married and a handful of years later they had me. Their only child." 

Henry listened to every word you said about the person he claimed to have known. You didn’t leave any details out of your story that made somewhat sense to the man he knew, and the last time he saw him before traveling to this time period. “If he survived and found the way…then it means he could have continued on. But it doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t Andrew tell you about the Men of Letters?”

“Because he didn’t have the chance. He died when I was two. My mother sold his soul to a demon—after she sold her own to have me. Come to find out an ex hunter and a demon can’t make a baby without a little extra help.” You told him. “Trust me, I’m not what you think I am. You have to have me someone mixed up with someone else.”

You felt like this situation was being stripped into different levels of strange that you couldn’t comprehend. Not only were you learning about things that seemed like it was too good to be true, it had to do with your father. A man you always thought was a riddle you would never be able to solve. Someone you thought Lucifer wanted to be your father only for his history of being a monster before cleansing himself of the darkness. But come to find out…he was a human at one point in his life that was sooner than you realized. A man who had a life you never knew. 

“I knew Andrew very well. Him and I worked together closely. His father—your grandfather—was the finest historian and researcher. He taught us everything we knew about the supernatural and the techniques to stop them. As you should have been by Andrew.“ Henry said. You felt yourself growing a bit lightheaded as you looked away from him to inhale a deep breath from all of what was going on. "You three were meant to be raised in this lifestyle." 

"Our father taught us how to be hunters.” Sam said. “Y/N’s mother was one herself.” 

Henry’s response was something that caused a bit of personal offense. He laughed at the idea of his grandchildren being something below what they were meant to be. And the thought of his own fellow friend falling in love with one of them only added humor to the situation. He thought his grandson was joking, but the angered expression on your face made him realize you were telling the truth. 

“You’re not. Andrew would never marry someone of that lifestyle. It’s beneath him.” He said. You felt your face scrunch up into an angered expression at how he was talking about your mother, as if he knew her. She was a lot of things, but you knew she was proud of what she did. “Are you? Hunters? Hunters? Well, hunters are…hunters are apes. You’re legacies.” 

“Legacies of what?” Dean asked his grandfather. “You’re not making a whole lot of sense. From where I’m standing all of what you told us feels like it’s something straight out of ‘Twilight Zone’ episode. So if you want us to believe you, you better start making sense.” 

\+ + +

Henry thought in order for you and the boys to understand the roots from where you came from and meant to continue on, he requested for Dean to drive to a location that was at least four and a half hours away. Which meant you were subjected to sitting in the backseat with the man and think about how he knew your father. It made you want to question him about everything that he remembered about him. What was he like? Did he know your grandfather ike he said? Maybe Henry even knew about how he was turned into a demon. But you didn’t say a single word. He told you that any and all questions you had would be answered once you got to the location that he needed to get to. His great grandchild wasn’t making that an easy possibility from your mood swings. 

You managed to find some self control and kept to yourself while Dean drove to some run down looking building Henry pointed out after you got into town. When the Impala parked not too far away, Henry was the first one out, you and the boys following close behind the man. You noticed the building that Henry wanted to go to was a comic book store. Which you found rather odd, not sure what it had to do with this Men of Letters. You had a feeling the two things didn’t add up together. His reaction matched your confusion when he approached the rundown and graffiti door. The outside of the building wasn’t as what he remembered fifty years ago. 

“What’s going on here?” Henry asked himself. He stared up at the business sign hanging above the door that wasn’t there before. It almost looked different than he last saw of it. But there was one thing that remained the same. He reached up a hand and traced a familiar symbol with his fingers. However the years faded away the very thing that corresponded to the Men of Letters, there was nothing more than a withering away mark in the door nobody had bothered to try and maintain. “No.” 

“All right, well, this was enlightening.” Dean said. He took his hands out of his pocket and slapped them together, wanting to get out of here quick as possible. “Let’s hit the road, huh?”

“Give him a minute, Dean.” Sam told his brother. He wanted to give his grandfather more time than just a few seconds to remember details that might be important for the four of you. 

“We just spent four hours driving, okay? All he did was stare out the window and request Pat Boone on the radio.” Dean grumbled. You rolled our eyes from how his attitude was starting to bleed into his lack of patience. “He had his time." 

"It’s just a facade, to rook our enemies into believing we are housed somewhere else.” Henry said. You furrowed your brow slightly from the way he was speaking. He sounded like someone straight out from one of those mystery novels popular back in his day. A stranger from the future claims to be family in need of help to stop a dangerous femme fatale. Along the way you learn all sorts of knowledge you weren’t sure if it was the truth.

“Okay, enough with the decoder talk. How about you tell us about this whole ‘Men of Letters’ business.” Dean said, giving his grandfather an ultimatum. “Or you’re on your own.”

“It’s none of your concern.” Henry replied.

“Why, because we’re hunters?” Dean asked the man, almost in an amused tone. He knew his grandfather reacted poorly at hearing what you and the boys were. But he hadn’t given a proper explanation to redeem himself for the judgement. “What do you have against us?”

“Aside from the unthinking, unwashed, shoot-first-and-don’t-bother-asking-questions-later part,” Henry cooly slipped his personal opinion out in a cynical way that made you stare at him with a rather offended look on your face at how poorly he thought of you. “not much, really.”

“You know what? I’ve had enough of you sticking your nose up at us. These are John’s children you’re speaking to. And I’m still Andrew’s daughter. Because we decided to become hunters doesn’t make us less than. We’ve done our part to help people.” You told the man, sticking up for yourself and his judgement of hunters. “We’re proud of what we do. Thanks to your son, he helped me learn everything there is about the supernatural before I decided I wanted to put my life on the line to help others. I’m sorry if you don’t think that’s good enough.”

“Your work was intended to help more than just a few common folk. You’re more than a hunter. My father and his father before him were both Men of Letters, as the way John should have been. And they would have carried the legacy onto you three.” Henry said. The more he talked, the more you began to realize there was more to this fancy title. “We’re preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters—the very elite. They do the rest.”

“So you’re like Yoda’s to our Jedis.” Dean mentioned a pop culture reference that made the tiniest of a smile spread across your face. Henry stared at the man, unable to comprehend what the joke was supposed to mean. “Never mind. You’ll get there.”

“Okay, but if you guys were such a big deal, how come we—or anyone for that matter, ever heard of you? And if Y/N’a father survived after all those years to start over, why didn’t he try to make contact with anyone?“ Sam asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this mystery that only left him digging further down without getting any real answers. "Was he possessed by a demon? Or something along those lines?”

Henry fell silent as he began to remember the night that lead him here. While the man had fallen silent, the pieces began to slowly come together. It all made sense. "Abbadon.”

“What? You mean she had something to do with him turning into one of her?” You asked him in a almost rushed voice. You felt yourself inhale a deep breath from everything you were hearing, all of it felt like it was coming out too fast for you to process. Before the man could fall silent and brush off the conversation, you kept persistent with your questions. “Henry. Are you saying Abbadon was the one who turned my father into a demon? Why? Why would she do that?”

“Andrew was initiated into the Men of Letters in 1957, a year before my due. During that time he was working closely with a few and trusted priests on a special assignment he was forbidden to speak much about. He didn’t say anything about what he was doing, only that it had to do with demons…and how it would change the fate of them forever.” Henry recalled of a memory that was only a few weeks old to him. You raised your brow slightly as he began to think back to your father and their conversations they had. “He told things were looking promising. But he admitted that he was getting a bit nervous for his own safety. The 'subject matter’ he was working with was getting rowdy. They talked about how there was going to be consequences for what he was doing.”

Your expression shifted at the mention of consequences from demons and how it might have to do with Abbadon, the redhead you had the displeasure of meeting and gave the least flattering first impression on. It seemed your father had made the same mistake to her and demons alike. He was poking at the beast. You realized your father and this little legacy must have been doing something they shouldn’t have. Using demons as lab rats to conduct experiments. Maybe along those lines. But word got out about what your father was doing. So they got pissed. And decided to seek a little punishment that fit the crime. 

While you had information about your father and what happened to him, there was still more to this story you needed to learn for all of this to make sense. Abbadon might have went after your father, but she also went after all of the Men of Letters, and not just to slaughter them and bury their name. There was another reason why, there had to be. Henry pushed open the door to the comic book store and began to step his way inside, you and the boys following right behind his heels before he could stray too far away from you. 

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t Abbadon just kill Andrew like the rest of the Men of Letters?” Sam asked. “What was so important that she wanted to keep him around?”

Henry stopped in his tracks once more when he began to remember more things about the night and the disaster that came of it and the object that took three very good men and their lives. He was given it to guard it with his life from Abbadon. And away from your father when he asked for it. Before he flashed those inky black eyes. Henry pulled out a small box from his suit pocket. You furrowed your brow slightly at the strange symbol carved into the wood. “I think for this.”

“Are you serious? All of this started because of a freaking box?” You muttered underneath your breath. “Do you know what it does, at least?”

“I wish I knew.” Henry admitted. You let out a sigh as he placed the box back into his pocket for safekeeping. “Andrew fell radio silent for a few days and resurfaced at my final initiation. All secrets were to be revealed by the help of him. But that’s also when Abbadon attacked us.” 

"Let me get this straight. Y/N’s father was turned into a demon by Abbadon to try and get closer to a box. But you traveled through time to protect something that does you don’t know what from a demon that you know nothing about?” Dean asked his grandfather, trying to get some sort of clarification to help make sense what was going on. Henry looked the three of you over before walking away, brushing off your questions and concerns. Dean scoffed as he spread out his arms. “Good. This is totally normal." 

Henry made his way farther down the hallway and into the comic book shop advertised outside. Over fifty years ago this place was something more; a special place for the Men of Letters to meet in secrecy. Now it remained as a place for people to enjoy the lasting tradition of comic books that were popular even in Henry’s time. You and the boys caught up with the man a few short moments later and approached him, taking a look around the shop. There was only one customer looking at comic books in the back and a punker chick behind the counter. 

“Hand me your…walkie-talkie.” Henry asked the younger Winchester. You furrowed your brow slightly from what he meant by that. Sam guessed that he meant his phone. Something that was very much different from his grandfather remembered. You had a feeling this was going to be a bad idea. Cell phones weren’t created until the early seventies. And touchscreens that you were used to in this day in age didn’t get popular until just a handful of years ago. "Operator, I need Delta 457.”

“Who are you not calling?” Dean asked the man, finding what he just witnessed a little painfully awkward..

“Our emergency number.” Henry explained. 

Dean reached out to grab the phone from his grandfather and handed it back to his brother so he could put it back in his pocket. “Yeah. Not anymore.”

Henry let out a sigh of frustration at how all of this was going, and the lack of any leads he was finding to help fix this problem before it could grow any worse. “They can’t all be gone. There must be another elder out there who can help us figure out how to stop Abbadon and what to do with the box.” 

“All right, gramps. I’ll show you how us 21st century hunters do it.” You whispered to him before walking past him and straight to the counter. You gave the girl a smile when you approached her, making her break her concentration away from the laptop she was using. “Hey, uh, hi. Can I hijack your computer for a hot second?”

Henry let out a laugh at the mention of a technological advancement that you surely would not know a single thing about. And wouldn’t be of use to the public, not even a hunter. “Like you could fit a computer in this room." 

The girl gave you a slightly confused look, you smiled and shrugged your shoulders. Dean ignored his grandfather and grabbed a hold of the computer, turning it in your direction so you could get started on what you did best. "All right, give me a name—anybody who might have been there that night—one of those elders.”

Henry started to list off a few names that he could memorize off the top of his head, each one you typed into the search bar and hit the enter button, instantly getting an old news article that told you everything you needed to know. “August 12, 1958. A tragic fire at a gentlemen’s club. Uh, 242 Gaines Street.”

“This is 242 Gaines Street…but that was no fire.” Henry remarked. 

“And the plot thickens.” You mumbled. You directed your attention back to the news article as you skimmed it before coming across the names of the victims. None of the names in which were your father’s. Which made you wonder where he ended up after all of this. “Larry Ganem, David Ackers, Ted Bowen, and Albert Magnus—all deceased.”

“Albert Magnus.” Henry repeated the last name you spoke. 

“He a friend of yours?” 

“Even better.”

\+ + +

You might have found the first possible lead in figuring out how the little box inside Henry’s suit jacket was so important Abbadon murdered three men to get closer to it. What lingered in the back of your mind of your mind during the long car ride to yet another location Henry requested, was why she turned your father into a demon. It had to be more than just to get closer to the box and for his knowledge. She could have kept one of the men alive and tortured the answer out of then It was an awful lot of trouble to go through to turn them into a demon the old fashioned way of forcing them to drink demon blood. You went through it once, and the process still gave you nightmares to this very day. 

Maybe the reason why Abbadon was here, and why the knife didn’t work on her, was because she was stronger than any demon you’ve faced before. Beside Azazel and Lilith. The both of them worked together in making you Lucifer’s perfect little pet. The anti-human to say “screw you” to God. Maybe Abbadon was a part of the bigger picture. Perhaps she turned your father because that’s what Lucifer wanted. But it didn’t explain why she was so interested in the box. And how your father eventually turned back into a human…maybe it had to do with what Henry said, about the experiments your father was working on. And the revenge the demons said they were going to get. The one Abbadon made sure she to seek out. 

Through all of today’s antics and stress, you found yourself accidentally drifting off to sleep, only to be woken up from a dreamless sleep to see that darkness had fallen and Henry wanted to visit a cemetery from the looks of it. You weren’t exactly sure how visiting the dead had to do with anything. But you and the boys followed behind the man, traveling through the grounds until you stumbled upon a handful of tombstones with names you recognized from the news article. 

“These were my friends, my mentors,” Henry mumbled, overlooking the gravestones of the fine men he once knew many years ago. “our last defense against the Abbadons of the world.” 

“Here’s your buddy Albert Magnus.” Dean said, his flashlight spotting a familiar name. 

“Albertus Magnus. And he was hardly a buddy.” Henry corrected the man. “He was the greatest alchemist of the middle ages.” 

“Okay,” Sam said. “So why is he buried here?”

“He’s not. His was the alias we’d use when going incognito.” Henry said. “I believe someone planted his name in that article…so that if a Man of Letters came looking for answers, he’d know something was amiss.” 

“So someone wanted you to come to this grave.” You said. 

“The question is why.” Henry muttered to himself. 

You agreed with the man there was too many things and new information floating to the surface that was starting to ask yourself why. None of it made sense. And much as you had questions of your own that you wanted answer, you had a feeling Henry couldn’t provide. You looked around the cemetery and the headstones to read off the names of the deceased, and upon doing so, you found something rather odd carved into the stone. You approached and ran your fingertips across symbol, feeling the marks into the cold headstone. It looked something of a hexagram symbol you’ve never seen before. “What is this?”

“Our crest.” Henry explained. He walked over to the headstone you were observing to take a look himself. It was the exact same symbol on the pin placed on his tie. “The Aquarian star, representing great magic and power. They said it stood at the gates of Atlantis itself.” 

“Hmm. It’s on all of the tombstones except for this one,” Sam pointed out as he flashed his light over a name that you saw in the article. One of the victims from that supposed fire that took his life. “Larry Ganem." 

Henry approached the tombstone of his fallen friend and crouched down on the ground so he was at level with the stone to get a better viewing. The symbol was of a cross along with four little ones on each side. It seemed it wasn’t put there for religious purposes. “The Haitian symbol for speaking to the dead. This is the message.” You looked over at the brothers from what was going on here from all of what was happening and the way Henry was speaking. It seemed the both of them were starting to wonder how deep and mysterious this Men of Letters business kept going. "You boys ever exhume a body?”

Now there was something you and the boys were familiar with. The boys headed back to the Impala to fetch a couple of shovels and lanterns to make digging a little easier. You offered to help digging for them a little easier by switching with one of them halfway through to give them a break. Sam scoffed at your suggestion, taking away the shovel and replacing it with a flashlight. It took a little over an hour for the boys to find the coffin, Henry offered nothing but his silence as he waited for them to do all the grunt work. When the boys found the coffin and threw the top above ground, you cautiously leaned over the edge to peek inside of the grave to see skeletal remains you were expecting to find. But the clothing of choice for the person buried in the coffin seemed a bit of a strange one. 

“Hey, was Larry a World War One yet?” Dean asked. Henry shook his head one. You furrowed your brow slightly from his choice of clothing that made no sense. Larry was born in 1926, eight years after the first world war ended. There was no way this was the same man written on the tombstone. “Well, then, who’s the stiff?”

Henry shrugged, “No idea.” 

Sam crouched down and took a look inside the coffin to see if he might be able to find some dog tags that could help identify the body. He found a circular metal pendant on a piece of string, a name was etched into it. “Captain Thomas J. Carey the third. That mean anything to you?”

Henry once again shook his head no. “Well, somebody wanted you to see this,” Dean said. “So maybe that somebody is Larry." 

"So, what,” You said, deciding to take a wild guess at what all of this meant. “maybe he survives the attack and hides out with this guy’s identity?”

“Okay.” Henry agreed. He pushed himself back up to his feet and stared down at his grandsons. Not once had he offered to help or say thank you for everything that you had done for him. All he had done since meeting you was request things. “What are we waiting for, then? Cover this up. Let’s be on our way." 

You gave him a dirty glare when he went on his way back to the Impala. The more you were around him, the more he was starting to get under your nerves. From the way he spoke down to you because of being a hunter. The things he said that made no sense. Lack of any help doing anything that might dirty his hands. The man walked around thinking he was something great. Maybe he was. But you weren’t getting anything from him except annoyance and questions. You needed to get to the bottom of it before it drove you to the brink of insanity.

\+ + +

After meeting time traveling grandparents and facing against a demon that tagged along for the ride, you and the boys knew there wasn’t much else you could do to make this situation any better. So you decided to do the next best thing to prepare for tomorrow, rent a motel room and call it a night. You didn’t realize how much stress of today and riding around for hours put a toll on your body. When you were finally off your feet and doing what you did best, searching for someone that was supposed to be a ghost, you felt somewhat at peace for the first time. Your mind was still buzzing with questions about your father, and while you wanted them answered, you weren’t sure how to go about it. And if you really wanted to hear more about his past.

Curiosity killed the cat, your mother would always say when you asked one more question when she told you something that left you wanting to know more. It was always followed by why? How? Sometimes things are best left unsaid. Because when you learn the truth, you can’t ever take the emotion it brings out back. It’s forever in your memory, there to haunt you whenever it feels like it, lingering in the depth of your mind. She was right about that from the aspects of your life you’d do anything to forget. But you couldn’t. They were there forever to torment you.

You wondered what she would think if she found out her husband was a lot like her. Someone who knew about the supernatural and supposedly tried to make a better world. Not to mention the small details like having known John’s father, being twice her age and being a demon for over a decade. All before being turned into a human again. How? You had no clue. He spent his entire life living a life until his dying breath. So did your mother. They were the perfect couple.

Every so often your eyes wandered away from the laptop screen and the double beds just across the motel room, their fluffy pillows and clean sheets were calling your name. It’d been a long day of running around, dealing with a demon bitch you had no idea who she was and now you were trying to find a man who might be your only clue into figuring out why a box was so important it cost the lives of two men and turned one into a demon. While you attempted to focus your concentration once again, you worked for a few more minutes before you found your eyes wandering away from the laptop screen when you heard Henry whistling to himself to pass the time.

Sam, who had been sitting by your side flipping through John’s journal, found himself broken away from his concentration at the noise. He found himself overcome with a sense of familiarity at the tune. He swore he heard it so many times over the years, for a moment it brought him back this childhood. “What is that? I know that tune.”

“‘As Time Goes By.’” Henry said from his position on the couch while you and the boys occupied the table just across the way. “I sure hope so. It’s from Casablanca.”

“It’s still the same old love story. A fight for love and glory. A case of do-or-die. The world will always welcome lovers. As time goes by.” You found yourself softly singing the familiar song, the words and music permanently engraved into the back of your brain. A smile tugged at the ends of your lips when you remembered the black and white film some people might have claimed to be the best movie ever made. You knew it was a classic, and you saw it too many times to count, but you cherished it for different reasons. “My mom always said it was my dad’s favorite film. I watched it so many times as a kid I broke the VHS tape.”

“Right.” Sam said. He smiled himself at how a simple song from one of the greatest black and white movies held different memories for all of you. Dean was a bit unsure of what made it so important until his brother reminded him. “Dad used to whistle it from time to time.”

“John saw ‘Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy’ at the drive-in one night. It scared the beeswax out of him. So I got him this little music box that played that song to help him sleep at night.” Henry told you an intimate story about John that made you realize he was a child once. An innocent mind who thought monsters in the shadows were there to snatch him out of his bed, but they would go away with a simple reassurance from his own father that the closet was empty and under the bed was safe. Henry smiled to himself as he shifted slightly in his seat so he was now leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs. “It worked like a charm.”

You found yourself smiling at the thought of a small John Winchester being terrified of a mummy that probably wasn’t that scary to begin with from the lack of any real horror gore they tried to do back in the day. Sam chuckled to himself at how he was hearing his father being portrayed in a way that he never seen before. “Wow, it’s hard to believe Dad was ever scared of anything.”

“Hey, Nancy Drew.” Dean’s voice broke your concentration away from his grandfather and back to him, making the smile on your face slowly fade away. You gave him a slightly confused look as to why he was acting so weird. “You find anything yet?”

“Uh, yeah. According to county records, Tom Carey lives in Lebanon Kansas, and is a very happy one hundred and twenty-seven year old.” You told them your findings that took little effort to find. You shut your laptop and let out a yawn you’ve been fighting off when the work you needed to do was finally done. “I don’t know about you boys, but I am beat. I say we get some shut-eye, head over first thing in the morning.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Listen to this.” Sam said. You let out a frustrated sigh when he forced you to sit back down in your seat so he could tell you what he found. “According to Dad’s journal, he once tortured a demon that said he made his bones working for Abbadon, who, it turns out, is a knight of hell.”

“What does that even mean?” Dean asked.

You knew there was different ranks of demons that signified how powerful and important they were to their creator during their creation. The older they were, the more stronger they were. But you’ve never heard of one being called a knight. Of course there was a lot of new things you were learning tonight, and Henry was providing you with some insight. “Knights of hell are hand-picked by Lucifer himself. They are of the first-fallen, first-born demons.”

“So very pure, very strong.” Sam said. It explained why the knife didn’t work on her like the rest of her kind. Because she wasn’t like the rest of the demons you faced against in your time. She was more powerful than you gave her credit for. Which meant taking her down was going to be more complicated than you thought.

“Legend has it that archangels killed all of them,” Henry said, getting up from his spot up from the couch as he walked forward to the table. “which as we witnessed, is not the case.”

“Unless she’s the last of her kind.” You mumbling, wondering if that was the case.

Henry nodded his head slowly, figuring that might be the case here, but his concentration found itself slipping away from the conversation and to the leather bound journal in Sam’s hands. The very one you looked through what felt to be hundreds of times. Much as you thought you could recite it line from line, you always found a new passage you didn’t remember reading. A piece of information that helped you and the boys out on a hunt. Henry gestured a hand to the journal and asked, “You say that belonged to your father?”

“Yeah.” Sam said. Henry asked if he could take a look at it, the younger Winchester slid it across the table for his grandfather to inspect it for himself and all his son accomplished over the years. “It’s a hunter’s journal. I assume Men of Letters—you use journals, too?”

“I intended to. I sent away for one the day before my initiation.” Henry said. He examined the picture of his son for a moment that was taken when he was in the Marines, drastically different from the small child he remembered saying good night to before ending up here. Lifting up the small photo, he noticed his own initials engraved into the leather. “As a matter of fact, judging by my initials here, this one, I believe.”

“That was yours?” Dean asked in a rather surprised tone of voice at hearing the origin of where his own father got the journal from.

“It must have arrived after…” Henry started to say something, but he found himself trailing off from his thought. He stared down at the journal for a moment that was intended to be his own. But over time it was shown that didn’t turn out to be the case. “I’m beginning to gather I don’t make it back from this time, do I?”

“We don’t know for sure.” Sam admitted to the man in a quiet tone. “All we do know is that Dad never saw you again.”

“What did he think happened to me?”

“He thought you ran out on him.” Dean told the man. Family was always proven to be a tricky topic in your life, and it always seemed to be more complicated than it was intended to be.

Henry sat down on one of the empty chairs, feeling himself become overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions at what he was hearing. “John was a legacy. I was supposed to teach him the ways of the letters.”

“Well, he learned things a little differently.” Dean mumbled. Henry furrowed his brow slightly as he asked his grandson how. It was the exact same way the Men of Letters looked down on. John found out about the supernatural in the most brutal way possible. “The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood, a stinking war…only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon who went after his own friends. And later, he was killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. He looked after Y/N like she was his own daughter. He never once turned his back on her. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad.”

There was a lot of things you didn’t like about John, from how he raised his children to his utter obsession that drove him to his grave. But there was no denying he was a good man at heart who tried to do everything in his power to make sure his boys were safe. And he never once looked at you any differently because of what your mother did. He took you in and raised you like you were his own daughter, giving you responsibilities to occupy your mind and checking up on you to make sure you were okay. That man would die for you like he had for his own son. And while you bumped heads with him on things, at the end of it all, he loved you like family. He got close to trying to be the father you never had.

“I’m sorry.” Henry muttered out an apology. “I wish I had been there for him.”

“Yeah, it’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?” Dean asked his own grandfather, wondering if all the effort he put into with the Men of Letters was really worth it in the end. You let out a quiet sigh when he pushed himself up to his feet and started walking towards the front door.

“It’s the price we pay for upholding great responsibility.” Henry said. “We know that.”

“Your responsibility was to your family, not some glorified book club! What kind of crap did you manage to do beside cost the lives of two men and turn another’s life into a living hell? If you weren’t so worried about yourself and some damn box maybe all of this could have been a little different.” Dean said. He was letting his emotions control what he was saying to his own flesh and blood, and while they were cruel, you knew there was truth to them. “My father might have been something you look down on. But he taught me to treat friends like family. Even if they turn your back on you for years. Eventually you learn what our parents do for us is to keep us safe.”

“Andrew was a victim to his own circumstances. I wish to God things were different.” Henry said. You found yourself biting your tongue, refraining yourself from lashing out at him yourself at his way of thinking. “We were legacies. We have no choice.”

“Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

You pushed yourself up to your feet and called out the older man’s name when you saw him grab his jacket and make his way towards the front door like you feared. He had a tendency of running off when things tensed up and going elsewhere to cool off. You didn’t think he should have been alone from how worked up he was getting himself. You managed to find him right before he could get into the Impala and drive off. While he stood in the parking lot trying to find the right key to unlock the car, you stepped forward and lightly grabbed a hold of him by his arm.

“Dean, come on. Come back inside.” You tried to speak to the man in a calm voice, thinking you might be able to help him get over whatever sort of resentment he had towards his grandfather. Because it wasn’t going to change much of anything. “I know you’re upset. And you have every right to be. Parents suck. They do stupid things and pretend like it’s the right thing to do. Out of anyone in this world, you know that.”

“He abandoned his own son, Y/N. For some stupid club that was more important than anything else.” Dean said. His tone of voice was lined with anger at the previous argument with his own grandfather at how they didn’t see eye to eye on things. You let out a quiet sigh at how he was letting his emotions get the best of him. “And he has the audacity to look down at his own son for what he decided to do? At least he never turned his back on us when we needed him.”

“Are you kidding me? John never showed his face unless it had to do with Azazel. He didn’t even give us a phone call to check to see if I was all right after I was dying in a hospital bed. Not to mention, half the time when he checked up on me was only by a phone call because he needed some help on a case. It was always you actually made the effort to visit me. Never him.” You said to him. All though he knew what you were saying was true, Dean still held a different opinion. "I understand he’s your father. You want to pretend he’s this great man who didn’t leave you weeks at a time when you and Sam were kids. Who didn’t keep secrets from us that we’re still finding out to this very day.”

“Kind of like how you and Sam have been acting lately?” Dean’s question took you by a bit of surprise. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering what he meant by that. “Ever since Sam decided to stick around, I can’t help but feel you two are…leaving me out of something. I thought all of us were back together. Like a family.”

“We are.” You didn’t realize you might have accidentally answered a little too quickly when you spoke up, making Dean’s suspicion grow slightly more. You tried to brush off the situation by giving him a smile as you placed your hands on his arms and gave them a squeeze, reassuring him that everything was fine. “Sam and I are just catching up on old times. That’s it. I mean, don’t tell me you’re getting a little jealous because I’m spending a little more time with Sam and not you?”

“Y/N, don’t.” Dean mumbled. He softly dragged your hands down his arms as he brushed off your touch, making your arms fall back down to your side. You gave him a look, wondering what his problem was now. “You’ve been acting off these past few weeks. And I wasn’t going to say anything just yet, because maybe I thought you would come to me if there was.”

"Of course.” You said to him. “You know I would.”

“Then why do I feel like you and him are keeping something from me?” Dean couldn’t help himself but he accidentally lashed out at you, directing his anger that was meant for his grandfather onto you. Your expression began to twist into the same kind he’d seen before when he tried to raise his voice at you, even the slightest than normal, and it would come out. You were growing pissed. “I know what Sam gave up was a lot to ask. And you want to do everything to give us a life where we’re both happy. And I want to give that you and Sam. I really. There’s not one part of me that doesn’t want to settle down.”

Your mood began to slightly change at the way Dean was approaching the subject. You knew he was talking about the conversation you and him had just a few short weeks after being reunited back together, where you learned about Emma, and your desire to have a real family of your own. And if you were right, it was the night where you conceived. You felt a little part of you start to wonder if this was the right time to tell him about the secret that was causing all of this trouble to begin with. However the feeling only lasted long as it arrived when Dean continued on talking.

"But…” You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at the very word you should have known was coming. “It’s not possible. Not right now, at least. You know that. We’ve got grandparents jumping out of motel room closets. Cas has been MIA. And we’re not even close at figuring out how to close the gates of hell. It’s just gonna have to wait. If that day ever does come for us.”

“Wow. Aren’t you such an optimist.” You mumbled to him. Your lips stretched into a smile, not out of humor, but at how you thought all of this could have gone well. It wasn’t. You felt yourself being pushed into a corner where you felt hopeless and alone. “And you wonder why I don’t talk to you about these kind of things.”

“I’m trying to be realistic here and not set you and Sam up for failure.” Dean said. “We don’t get happy endings, Y/N. We just do what we can and then we die. That’s it.”

“What makes you think I want that? I don’t want a happy ending. I don’t want a ‘normal’ life. I use want some place to call home.” You suddenly found yourself snapping at him, telling him a sliver of truth that you had been keeping from him. “I just want someplace to settle down and not have to sleep in a motel or the backseat of the Impala. That’s all. Aren’t you getting tired of living on the road?”

“I don’t know. I can’t miss something I never had.” Dean admitted to you. Your expression softened slightly at the hard truth he learned to accept. He didn’t want to your sympathetic stare. He wanted you to trust him. “Look, I just want you to know that you can come to me. Whatever you’ve been talking to Sam about. I‘m all ears. After all, I am your boyfriend.”

“Yeah. And Sam’s my best friend. So?” You asked him, wondering what his relationship title had to do with anything. “I’m not hiding a friend you don’t know about. There’s no one else in my love life. There’s nothing you need to worry about. But there’s just some things Sam understands more logically than you. And there’s things I tell you that Sam doesn’t know.”

“Like what?” Dean asked, wanting an example. You opened your mouth to think of one to keep this little white lie going without him suspecting a thing. Even though you knew it would be easier in the long run to just let it all out. You wouldn’t. Until you proved him wrong about being able to have both. To provide a proper living situation for him and his future child. 

“There’s just some secrets you don’t need to know about. End of story.” You said in a matter-of-fact voice. 

“Right. Because you and Sam sharing secrets always ends up fine.” Dean’s muttered remark was only meant for him to hear. It was out of frustration from the way you were carrying on this argument. And while you should have brushed it off, you felt your breathing become heavier in anger. Because you knew what he said hit below the belt in a way that made you want to haul off and smack him. But if you did, then you would need to explain yourself to him. And you were too pissed off to have this discussion. 

“You’re such a dick. You wonder why I don’t tell you things. It’s exactly because of this. You have an opinion on everything. And if nobody thinks the same way as you then they’re automatically wrong.” You said. Dean’s expression changed at how angry you were getting now. It seemed that he hit a nerve in you. “I can see it comes from your father’s side of the family.”

You didn’t give him a chance to keep the argument going or a chance to apologize for what he said just a few moments ago. You left Dean standing in the parking lot as you stormed back to the motel room, roughly slamming the door shut to let everyone know you were pissed off. You forced yourself not to react on your emotions as you shrugged off your jacket and shoes, leaving them beside the front door. You walked past Henry, not caring if he heard every word. You didn’t even look at Sam when you headed for the bed. You just wanted for this day to be over with.

\+ + +

You fell right to sleep when you head hit the pillow, your anger and other sorts of emotions dragged to the surface from the argument you had with Dean was long forgotten from the exhaustion. You had been peacefully sleeping in the bed you claimed for a few hours before you were woken up by the feeling of someone’s weight shifting the mattress. Inhaling a quiet breath, your eyes slowly opened to see a hazy figure that looked like someone you went to sleep pissed off at. Dean was standing over you, his flannel and jacket gone, shoes kicked off next to the bed. He was trying his hardest not to wake up, but it seemed his attempts failed. When you shifted around in bed and stared up at him, he found himself frozen in his spot.

“Henry took the couch and Sam’s passed out cold. Besides I think it’d be kind of hard trying to share a bed with that Sasquatch.” Dean whispered. He waited a moment for you to throw a pillow at his face and tell him to take the floor. But he saw your lips stretch into a smile at the image. You moved over slightly in bed and gave him enough room for the both of you to share. He wasted no time getting into bed, the both of you getting comfortable. “I’m sorry for being a dick to you earlier.” 

“I’m sorry for calling you one.” You apologized back to him in a hushed voice so you wouldn’t wake his brother. Dean reached out a hand and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and gave him a small smile, hopeful he might be able to see it in the darkness. “You were right about me not telling you things. I didn’t mean to over react like that.” 

“It’s okay. A lot’s been going on lately. I understand where you’re coming from.” Dean said. You nodded your head as you opened your mouth to tell him something, but all that came out was a yawn. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We can talk about it tomorrow.” 

There was no part of you that was going to argue with that. The both of you exchanged a whispered good night before you finally let yourself close your eyes, drifting back off to sleep in the arms of the man you loved. Dean might have been a pain in the ass, but he was yours. And in time you were going to prove him wrong. 

While you and the boys drifted off to a deep sleep, Henry felt awake, too restless with his own thoughts to even think about catching a wink. He was given an opportunity to look into the future to see how his only son lived and died. While he hadn’t followed in the right path that Henry wanted, there was some happy thought to see his son had tried to do good in this world. But it wasn’t easy.

John learned the hard way about the supernatural when his wife and Andrew, who his son called a good friend of his, someone who was almost like a brother he knew his whole life, was taken by a demon he called “Yellow Eyes.” The same demon reappeared again fourteen years later, this time it took another victim, Ella, leaving her only daughter an orphan. He hunted monsters and lived well below who he was supposed to be, raising his own children in the ways that Henry never intended.

The entire journal was well put together, with information about creatures that Henry was familiar with, but never hunted during his studies. The pages that were intended for his own personal notes and thoughts were filled with John’s, a man who was supposed to be a legacy, but died at the hands of a demon who took the people he cared for. Henry looked up from the pages and to the double beds that his grandsons and the daughter of a man he called a friend of his own occupied.

Sam occupied one bed, his large frame spread across as he peacefully slept across from his brother. You and Dean, who had been fighting just a few hours prior, occupied a bed together, Dean lying behind you with his arms circled around your waist and tangled with your own, resting on your stomach. All three of you were destined for so much greater. Only your lives was filled with misery and pain. Henry shut the journal and sat with his own thoughts for a while. He didn’t need to think too much about what he could do to fix this situation. He owed his son that much.

\+ + +

“Hey. Wake up!”

You had been peacefully sleeping, enjoying a dream that was one of the rare good ones that kept you lying in bed, hoping you might be able to drift off for a little while longer to catch some more of the blissful feeling. But you were torn away from any such luxury by the sound of Sam’s voice, followed by something that felt dense and yet soft hit you against your shoulder. Your eyelids involentarly opened ever so slightly to let in the morning light as you looked up to see Sam’s giant frame looming over you. You let out a loud yawn as Dean managed to let out a few grunted words, wondering what the rude wake up call was about.

“Henry—he’s gone.” Sam told you. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as you tried your hardest to untangle yourself out of Dean’s arms as you forced yourself to sit up, asking him where his grandfather went. “I don’t know. He just left a note saying he was gonna fix everything.”

“Yeah, or screw it all up.” You grumbled. You pushed yourself up to your feet as you let out yet another yawn, knowing there was only one real way to get yourself to wake up and figure out what the hell Henry was doing. “I call dibs on the shower first. You guys figure out what the hell your stupid grandfather is about to do.”

It didn’t take long for you to get ready for yet another long day you knew you were going to have ahead for you while you tried to figure out what Henry’s big plan was. Dean checked the Impala to see if Henry snuck off with anything while you and Sam kept tabs online to see if you might be able to pick up any possible leads. You might not have found a place where Henry wandered off to, but Dean had a sneaky suspicion of what his grandfather was up to.

“Now we know what he meant by ‘fix everything.’” Dean said. He stepped back into the motel room after taking a look around the Impala to see if anything was missing, and sure enough, Henry helped himself to something important. “He broke into the trunk, stole an angel feather. I’m guessing he’s gonna whip up another one of those blood spells and Marty McFly himself back to the 1950s.”

“To do what?” Sam asked. “Stop Abbadon before she strikes?”

“Or grab your father and haul ass.” You could only guess what he would do as a parent to stop his son from ending up in this lifestyle where it ended up like this. “Look, point is he’s doing it.”

“How? He still needs two ingredients for the spell. Unless…Unless there’s a place nearby that sells read hoodoo.” Sam guessed. You had a feeling there had to be close by in walking distance. Dean busied himself with calling Garth as Sam headed for his laptop to see if he might be able to track one down. However he found himself momentarily distracted by the police scanner you had going this morning, a call about a murder caught his attention. “Hey. It just hit the wires—one dead at Astro Comics.”

“Abbadon?” You guessed, already having a feeling you knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “It has to be.”

“Okay, so she’s close. I’ll find Henry. You and Nancy Drew find Larry.” Dean said, coming up with a plan of action. “Find out how to kill this chick.”

You were more than happy to agree to the plan, wanting to be be out of the way of a demon you knew was going to be hard to take down. You had a feeling she was eager to go after one thing, this box that cost the lives of two men, and the only way to do that was to go after Henry.

\+ + +

By the afternoon you and Sam were in Lebanon, the hometown to Larry Ganem for the past few decades since the attack that took the lives of his friends. Larry was an old man now from his white hair and slower mobility, and while he was no one hundred and twenty seven year old, he felt like it from the emotional turmoil he carried for the past several decades after what he was forced to witness. When you and Sam introduced yourselves with the reason why you were here in the first place, you gave him a story about how you came to know of him from the journal you and the younger Winchester found while going through some old things.

The little white lie was enough for you to be ushered inside and into the living room where you were told to get comfortable on the couch while Larry took a seat on his arm chair. You and Sam continued on with the conversation, giving the man much information that you knew to get him to start talking without going into full detail about how his friend Henry was still very much alive and kicking. You gave Mrs. Ganem a polite smile when she arrived back from the kitchen after she fetched all of you some tea, making sure to mumble a thank you when she poured you a cup. You were careful not to spill or drop the cup when you reached for the fine china and took a sip.

“So, Henry is dead.” Larry repeated the unfortunate news that brought you and Sam here in the first place. You gave him your condolences at the sad information you needed him to believe was the truth. “I was so sure that he had survived.”

“Yes, well, like we said—we found his journal and were hoping you could fill in the gaps for and explain to us what happened that night in 1958.” Sam went on, hopeful the older man would give you any sort of helpful information. But it seemed he wanted to leave it all in the past, not seeing the point of dragging skeletons out of the closet after so long.

Larry scoffed, a bitterness coming over him at the past he tried so long to forget. “It doesn’t matter. They’re gone. We’re gone.”

“But Abaddon is not.” You reminded the man of the enemy you had in common, the demon both of you had tried to take down in your lifetimes.

“Abaddon was a hired gun. She killed us all that one night.” Larry said. You weren’t the type of person who liked to get mouthy with people, especially with those trying to help. But you found yourself making a remark about how everyone might have died, even one who probably wished he suffered the same fate as his fellow friends. But the man didn’t get away scot free. “She blinded me. It’s a miracle I survived.”

Mrs. Ganem comforted her husband as she placed an arm on his shoulder, Larry felt around for his wife’s hand and brought it up to his lips to give her skin a soft kiss. Larry looked back over in your direction. “But she did not get what she came for.”

“The box.” Sam said, knowing exactly what Larry was referencing. The younger Winchester cut right to the chase of why you were here in the first place. “Listen, Abaddon is here, and she wants this thing. So we need to know everything there is to know about it.”

“In the box is the key to every object, scroll, spell ever collected for thousands of years under one roof.” Larry explained to the both of you. You felt your gaze drop slightly in surprise at what you were hearing. “It is the supernatural mother lode.”

“So… Abaddon wants the key so she can get her hands on it.” You took a wild guess as to what that might mean if the demon got her way.

“Can you imagine what she would do with that?” Larry chuckled to himself, you didn’t find any of this a bit funny.

“So, how do we stop her?” Sam asked the man. “How do we stop Abaddon?

“You don’t.” Larry’s answer took you a bit by surprise. It wasn’t the one you wanted to hear. But you were beginning to understand why she put in so much effort to get her hands on the box. Larry pulled out a pad and pen from his sides to write down something and then tear off the piece of paper. Sam grabbed it from the man when he outstretched his hand in front of his face. “Throw it in. Shut the door forever. And walk away.”

“Wait, why would we do that?” You questioned him and the stupid idea he was suggesting.

“Because it is the safest place on earth, warded against any evil ever created. It is impervious to any entry, except the key.” Larry went on about this place, only making your curiosity peek even more. And your desire to get Abbadon out of the way so she couldn’t get her grubby hands on it. This place was something that seemed like a gold mind for a hunter, even a Men of Letters. You reminded Larry if you and Sam were to do such a thing all of that knowledge and resource would be gone forever. “And that is the price we have to pay for keeping it away from Abaddon.”

Your expression hardened slightly as you set down your cup of tea back to the saucer. “Uh, do you mind if I use the powder room?”

Your bladder wasn’t what it used to be since you became pregnant. Much as you wanted to keep participating in this conversation, the baby was demanding for you to pee. Mrs. Ganem pointed you down the hall and instructed you to take the first door on the left. You thanked her once again and pushed yourself back up to your feet, leaving Sam alone for him to carry on with the conversation until you got back.

There had to be a way to take down Abbadon once and for all. No demon was impervious to death. The knife might not have worked on her and the last time you saw the colt was when Dean accidentally dropped it back in the wild west. All options that were your to go method of taking down powerful black eyed monsters like herself. Maybe this supposed place where all sorts of information and objects could help you figure out a way to stop Abbadon. All you needed to go was get out of here, find Dean and make your way to the location that Larry gave you. There was still the matter of Henry and where he ended up in all of this. But it was one problem at a demon. Demon first, grandfather second.

You made your way out of the bathroom just a few short minutes later with your bladder not calling for your attention until it decided what next important occasion would be perfect to pull your attention away from. As you were about to make your way back into the living room, you casually peered down the hall and looked at the photographs hanging up on the walls. All though Larry lost his sight over fifty years ago, that didn’t stop his wife from making it look homey best that she could. You found your gaze stopping at a door that was cracked just the slightest while the rest of the them in the halls were shut. 

You knew the right thing to do was go back into the living room and head out while you still had time that made you one step ahead against Abbadon. You weren’t known to do what was logical when your curiosity was being tested. You told yourself little peek wouldn’t hurt. You quietly made your way down the hall and approached the door, slowly pushing it open and peeked inside to see that it was in fact an office. It was a cozy little room with a desk and reading chair, along with all sorts of books. It seemed out of sorts, like someone was searching for something. 

You approached the desk when you noticed all sorts of papers were spread around the place along with the chair pulled out, as if someone had been sitting there. You picked up a few pieces of paper to notice almost all of them were death certificates and newspaper clippings, all having to do about the fire on August 12th, 1958. You furrowed your brow slightly as to why Larry would have them. Maybe he wanted to keep some sort of file on the Men of Letters, thinking he he was the last generation after his fellow friends were slaughtered. Maybe he remembered one of them had made it out alive with dire consequences.

You pushed a few more pieces of paper around until you caught sight of a familiar name catch your eye. You picked up the marriage license to one Andrew and Ella Y/L/N. For a momentary nt you wondered why he would have such a thing. It seemed Larry wanted to know how his old friend ended up. But you noticed the paper still felt warm, as if someone had just printed it…

“Didn’t your father teach you not to poke your nose where it didn’t belong?”

You heard a feminine voice come from behind you, making you realize you weren’t alone anymore. For a split second you thought it was Mrs. Ganem who was standing behind you after she caught you snooping around in her husband’s study after you were gone longer than you should have been. You were all prepared to make an apology, but when you turned around to face her, the woman wasn’t who you were expecting. The smile on your face disappeared when you caught sight of the red hair. You really should have seen this one coming.

“Abbadon.” You whispered the demon’s name.

“And you must be Y/N, Andrew’s daughter. I always wondered what happened to him. Glad to see he got himself laid and started a little family.” Abbadon said. She noticed the papers you were holding, making her lips stretch into a slight smirk. “It’s amazing what you kids put out there these days. Anyone can type in a name to a computer and find out just about everything on them. The old bag of bones knew enough to help me figure a few things out.”

“If you’re looking for the key, I don’t have it. Sorry to disappoint.I know how much of an effort you put into getting your fifty hands on it.” You said. thinking that’s why she followed you and Sam here in the first place and not going after Henry like you figured. “After all, you turned my father into a demon just to go after the box. And I know how hard you have to get your hands dirty to do that.”

“I can only imagine what kind of nonsense Henry filled your head with. There’s a reason why I did that. Let’s just say I gave him a punishment that fit the crime.” Abbadon said. You narrowed your eyes slightly on the demon from what she meant. “Your daddy wasn’t a very nice man, Y/N. If you help me get that key, I promise I’ll tell you why…and I’ll kill you and your friend quickly.”

You might be able to kill her like how you wanted, but there was one trick you didn’t get to try yet to buy you some time before she crawled her way back out of hell. You began to whisper the exorcism spell underneath your breath, expecting any sort of reaction out of her to help let you know it was working. But you felt the words dying on your lips when you got halfway through and realized she wasn’t even flinching. This was one of the moments that you knew you were in deep crap. You swallowed slightly as you tried to figure out a possible way out of this one. Before you could do anything, Abbadon made her move. All you remembered was a blow to the head and darkness engulfing your vision.

\+ + +

Dean made it to the hoodoo shop right as his grandfather was about to make the foolish mistake of trying to go back in time to fix the mistakes he made. Henry wanted to give his son the life he deserved after he read through the man’s journal, discovering all the heartbreak and tragedy he had to live through. It was Henry’s fatherly instinct that made him want to try to play around with time to go back right before all of this mess started. He wanted to be there for his son. He wanted to try and fix the mistakes that he thought was his to blame for, not realizing if he did so his own grandchildren might not exist. But that was the price he was willing to pay.

Dean would be the first one to admit that he had done a lot of stupid things for the sake of family if it meant they were okay. He put his own life on the line and went to hell. But there was no way he was going to let his grandfather try to fix his problems. And things were only about to get worse for the people he loved the most. The argument between Henry and Dean was momentarily stopped when he heard his phone start to ring, and at the sight of the caller I.D., it was his little brother. He innocently suspected that it was about this damn box that was causing a whole lot of fuss. But the laughter that came from the other line made a sense of dread come over him.

“No. Much sexier. Try again.” The demon said, thinking all of this was funny. Dean felt his grip around the phone tighten as he spoke her name in a venomous tone. “Good boy. Now listen up—I want to make a good, old-fashion horse trade. Henry and the key. In exchange, I’ll happy return your brother and little girlfriend. Or they die. Are we clear?”

Demons always had the same idea when it came to making one of them do what they want; dangle the feet of someone they cared about and watch as they squirmed, forfeiting all of their morals for the sake of a happy ever after without bloodshed. Dean unwillingly agreed. "On the road to Larry’s there’s a processing plant. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Dean ended the call after he was giving instructions that were too simple to mess up. Henry could tell from his grandson’s facial expression that something was amiss. “Abbadon has Sam and Y/N?”

“She wants to trade you and the key for Sam and Y/N’s life.” Dean told his grandfather the circumstances he was going to have to follow. And while the older Winchester was willing to do just about anything to make sure you and his brother were safe and sound, his grandfather didn’t think the trade off was far. He thought he could fix things his way.

“If I could just go back,” Henry tried to persuade the younger man to letting him do this and fix all the mistakes he thought he caused. “stop this all from happening.”

“And what if you can’t?” Dean questioned his grandfather. Henry fell silent. “I can’t take that risk—not with Sammy and Y/N on the hook now.”

“I can’t abandon my son, Dean! Not again!” Henry raised his voice, his own guilt and sorrow taking over his motives. What he was about to do was selfish and cruel, but he hurt his son and someone he once called a friend. There was no way he was going to make that mistake again. “I need to do this. I’m sorry.”

Henry turned his back to his grandson and began to continue with the ritual as he put his entire focus on making sure all of this was done right. Dean already decided on what to do. He came up from behind and put Henry into a chokehold, putting pressure on the man’s airway until it was cut off. A few moments later he felt Henry’s body go limp in his arms. What he was about to do was selfish. Trading one life for another. But he would do anything he had to make sure his real family was okay in the end of all of this.

\+ + +

It was the drive halfway to Lebanon when Henry woke up to find himself in the passenger side of the Impala, his grandson behind the wheel. His throat felt like someone had choked him, the pieces weren’t too hard to connect together to figure out what was going on here. Dean made the consecutive decision to save his little brother and friend because it was what he thought was right. If Henry had his way none of this would be happening. He’d be back in his own year, packing up his wife and son up to hit the road. But it seemed Dean wasn’t that good of a hunter if he was willing to bargain with a demon. 

“Sorry about that.” Dean tried to apologize the violent behavior he had to use in order to get his grandfather to do what he wanted. Just because the man was trying to be sincere didn’t mean he meant what he said. 

“No, you’re not.“ Henry muttered, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “You’ve wanted to do that since we met.”

“Henry, you need to understand something. When my dad died, I couldn’t save him…no matter how bad I wanted to. I never want that to happen to Sam. Ever. And Y/N…we lost her once before. We thought we were never gonna get her back. That feeling…it felt like someone took half of me. Never in my life do I want to feel that again.” Dean admitted his true reasons for why he was doing all of this. His drastic measures was the same reason why Henry was willing to change time. “If there’s a chance that I can save the both of them, I’m gonna do it. Sammy’s my brother. And we’re the only thing Y/N has close to family.”

In all honesty, Dean understood his grandfather’s urge to protect his son from the dangers that he would eventually have to overcome. It was the fatherly instinct in Henry that made him want to give John the life he deserved, and it was the same reason why Dean was willing to do anything for his little brother. He spent his entire life raising Sam and doing everything in his power to make sure he was all right. And Dean would do anything for you if it meant you were okay. He would put his own life on the line if it meant you made it out alive.

\+ + +

It was a simple trade off that would leave both parties satisfied; Abbadon would get the box and Henry to do what she pleased, you and Sam went off on your merry way with Dean, never to look back again. That’s what the plan was. But you’ve never met a demon who held up their end of the bargain without taking everything they wanted. Dean should have known better than to try and make a deal with a demon and think all of you were going to get out of here alive. What other choice did he have than to do what Abbadon wanted? She was undefeatable. He could only play along and hope for the best. You couldn’t say you wouldn’t do the same if it were him standing in your position with his little brother.

You watched from your spot in the middle of the warehouse, a good distance from the sliding door that was the only way out of this place from what you could tell, as Dean walked in sync with the trade offering. This was the stupidest thing that you might have ever done. You really hoped Dean wasn’t stupid enough to fall for the demon’s trick. He still had no idea what the key lead to and how much at stake was here. That stupid little box was more trouble than what it was worth. And soon it might the only thing that would save you and your unborn child’s lives.

“Abbadon! I’ll send Henry over here with the box.” Dean called out to the demon. He took the box out from his jacket pocket to show her and reassure he wasn’t trying to pull any tricks. All of you watched as he slipped it into the pocket in his grandfather’s pocket. “You do the same with Y/N and Sam. No tricks.”

“My only interest is Henry and the key.” Abbadon reassured the older Winchester. “Once I make sure I have both, you three are free to go.”

It was all on Henry to make the first move, but the man stood where he was. You furrowed your brow slightly as a sense of dread began to come over you. Part of you wondered if all of this was some kind of trick, but Henry’s hesitation made you start to think otherwise. Dean wasn’t in the mood for any of this. “You do this standing,” Dean pulled out his gun and showed it to his grandfather. “Or you can do it crawling. Your call.”

Henry could tell the man was serious from the threatening glare on his face and how his finger lingered on the trigger, willing to keep to his promise if his grandfather didn’t do what he wanted. He unwillingly made the first step forward, giving Abbadon confidence that the hunter was stupid enough to negotiate. She held up her end of the bargain when she let go Sam from the force she had on him, nodding her head for him to get a move on it. Sam opened his mouth, trying to get her to let you go first, but you shook your head, wanting him to get moving before she changed her mind. Sam let out a sigh and began walking across the warehouse and to his brother who stood on the opposite side.

When he crossed paths with his grandfather, he couldn’t help himself but say sorry at how all of this had to be. Henry didn’t want to hear any of it. The boys’ end of the deal was taken care of when Henry made it over to Abbadon with the box still in his pocket from what you could tell. And while things looked to be fair, you knew all of this was about to hit the fan when you heard a sudden echo of metal crashing from across the warehouse, making you realize Abbadon had no intention of letting you and the boys go. You saw this one coming, and yet you were still pissed.

“We had a deal!” Dean yelled at the demon, Abbadon could only laugh at the hunter.

“Surprise.” Abbadon taunted the man. “I lied.”

Abbadon was about to prove that she wasn’t someone to be messed with. Without warning, she shoved her entire hand directly into the man’s stomach before roughly ripping it out, taking all of you by surprise. A gasp fell out of your mouth as you heard Sam call out his grandfather’s name, his first instinct was to rush over and do something, but Dean stopped him. Abbadon thought she was so clever and funny. But her own arrogance would be her demise. The handcuffs that kept Henry’s hands behind his back were easy to get out of if they weren’t put on all the way. He easily slipped out of them and pulled the gun he had hidden from the demon.

“You’re not the only one.” Henry whispered to the demon.

It seemed Henry and Dean were one step ahead of Abbadon this entire time. Even you knew a bullet to the brain was no way to stop a demon like her unless it was from the colt. You just pissed her off even more. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered her meatsuit was ruined. To her all of this was part of the fun. But little did she realize that she was powerless, you could tell from the way you suddenly felt yourself moving backwards from her.

“Whoo! What a blast. Now, give me the box.” Abbadon commanded. She reached out and slipped a hand into Henry’s pocket, expecting to find the one she saw Dean slip inside, but what she pulled out was a deck of cards. Abbadon threw it to the ground as her hands clenched into fists. “Where is it?!” She screamed on the top of her lungs, showing all of you her inner beast was ready to play. Neither one of the boys said a word, but that was no problem. “Fine. We can do this the hard way.”

Abbadon reached out and grabbed a hold of Henry’s face so he was now facing her. She had a little trick that none of you knew about. But her powers were useless from what he did to her. She pushed him away as she let out a piercing scream, loud enough to make you flinch at how close you still were to her, but not deadly as she wanted. Abbadon wanted nothing more than to tear all of you to shreds, when she tried to make her way forward to Henry to finish the job, her feet were stuck, causing her to question why. A slight smirk spread around your lips at what was going on here. The only way to trap a demon was in a devil’s trap. And somehow they got one lodged up in her skull.

Sam tended to his grandfather when his wounds were beginning to become too much for him to even stand up on his own while Dean helped cut the ropes around your wrists. Abbadon’s mood began to change as she began to laugh again. She tilted her head up slightly, her neck covered in blood. All of you had shot and stabbed her, but nothing worked. Abbadon thought she really was the winner here. “You still didn’t kill me.”

“No, but you’ll wish we did.” Dean said. He pulled out a machete and sliced her head right off her neck, making the both of them tumble to the ground. You stared down at the head to see her blink, making you realize she was in fact still alive. “The demon trap in your noggin is gonna keep you from smoking out. We’re gonna cut you into little steaks and bury each strip under cement. You might not be dead, but you’ll wish you were.”

Henry and Dean might have started this journey not liking one another and bumping heads at each chance they got, but they sure made one hell of a team. You looked down at the man who was lying in his youngest grandson’s arms as he clung to the last few minutes of his life. You saw his lips stretch into a smirk at how well their plan was executed. “We did it.”

All of you knew Henry wasn’t going to make it back to 1958 and fix the way things he wanted to. He wasn’t going to see his son again. John was going to follow the same path that would lead all of you here. While John was going to think of his father as someone who ran out on him, you and his children got to know Henry as a hero. Someone who risked his own life to save all of you. And that was the most Henry could ask for.

“No, you did it. For a bookworm, that wasn’t bad, Henry.” Dean said, complimenting the man for the first time as he gave him a smile. His grandfather weakly chuckled.

“I’m sorry I judged you two so harshly for being hunters. I should have known better. You’re also Winchesters. By blood or not. As long as we’re alive, there’s always hope.” Henry used his last precious moments of life as an attempt to undo the judgement he caused on his grandson and yourself. You blamed your pregnancy half the time for your influx of emotions, but you knew the reason why your eyes were starting to glaze over was because of having to see him like this. “I didn’t know my son as a man, and I might not have been there for Andrew, but having met you three…I know I would have been proud of him.”

You lost count how many times you’ve seen people die right in front of your eyes. But it never got any easier. You felt your heart sink when you saw Henry drift off just a few moments later, succumbing to his injuries. Another person you and the boys cared about was taken from you, all because of some damn box. Your eyes drifted away from the man and to the wooden box that Sam held in his hands. Whatever this thing lead to, no life was important enough to be risk to keep it safe. The Men of Letters had three remaining members now; you, Sam and Dean.

\+ + +

It only seemed fair for you and the boys to bury Henry with the rest of his friends in the cemetery where he would be put to rest. You even went through the trouble of making him a grave marker with the Men of Letters crest. Life was a funny thing and what it threw your way. You always thought you were one thing, a monster doomed for a terrible fate after your parents sabotage any sort of normal upbringing you could of had into this world. But what if that wasn’t the case? What if they were just trying to do their hardest to bring some good into this world, but it was tainted by the devil himself?

Heaven brought your parents together for a reason. Maybe it wasn’t because of the apocalypse. Maybe it was for the original plan God wanted the entire time, for Lucifer to see the good in the things he hated. Love was a beautiful and complicated thing. But Lucifer had a cold heart. You wondered if he didn’t care at all. He pulled the strings of fate to make you this way. And your parents did what they could to protect you from the things they hunted. Demons like Azazel and Abbadon after they lured their victims into the traps Lucifer set for them from being turned and selling souls to have a child after so many heartbreaking disappointments.

You were starting to realize that soon enough you were going to be in your mother’s position with John’s worries. Soon there was going to be a child that was yours. And you were going to have to do everything in your power to make sure they were all right.

“I get it now.” Sam spoke up after a moment of silence fell between the three of you. You turned your gaze away from the grave and to the younger man to hear what he had to say. “What Cupid said about Heaven busting ass to get Mom and Dad together. The Winchesters and the Campbells—the brains and the brawn.” 

“Well, I’m glad you see it. All I see in our family tree is a whole lot of dead.” Dean’s angsty remark seemed exactly what you expected him to say. But it made you subconsciously press a hand against your stomach, knowing death was no stranger to your side of the family. And more than just relatives. Dean took his hand out of his pocket when he felt his fingers brush against a piece of paper. “Hey, I found this in Henry’s wallet.”

You leaned over to see that it was a picture of John and his father. A smile crept along the ends of your lips at how adorable he looked. And so innocent. Dean handed it over for his brother to take a look at it. “Dad looks happy.”

“Kind of makes you wish he knew the truth, huh? I mean, all those years thinking his old man ditched him when the poor son of a bitch really came here to save our bacon.” Dean said. There was no denying any aspect of your life was normal, there was always a twist to it. “Freaking time travel, man.”

“You think it would have made a difference?” Sam asked. You and his brother looked at him with a bit of a confused expression, wondering what he meant by that. “Dad. If he had his own father around.”

“What, in how he raised us?” Dean wondered if that’s what his brother meant. “Sammy, he did the best he could.”

“I know that. I do.” Sam mumbled. “They all did.”

You let out a sigh as you crossed your arms over your chest. Sam realized that the journey wasn’t over just yet. He pulled something out of his pocket that made you grow furious from looking at it. And another part of you curious as to what the fuss was all about. “What are the chances that place is still standing?”

“It’s a chance we’ve got to take, I guess. Even though ever part of me wants to throw that thing into the damn ocean and never see it again.” You said. You reached out and grabbed the box from Sam to take a hold of the thing that caused so much trouble, so much death. "I mean, we are legacies, right? This is ours much as it was Henry’s and my father’s. Let’s see what the fuss is about.”


	12. Everybody Hates Hitler.

You didn’t have much expectations for what this Men of Letters safe place was supposed to be. After several decades of abandonment you highly doubt it was still standing anymore. Or even in conditions well enough to step inside of from the years of neglect. If nobody had made such a fuss about this place you doubt you would even consider checking it out. You wanted to see why Larry Ganem instructed you to lock the door and throw away the key. That wasn’t going to happen until you had a good through look around the place, maybe then you’d decide to listen to the old man. Little did you and the boys realize how important this place was going to be.

You had little luck trying to pinpoint this place on the map to try and figure out what this place might look like. You only had the coordinates to guide you the place that was a good distance from town. The scenery during your drive to the Men of Letters hideout contained not much but trees and paved road. However you noticed something coming up in the near distance the more Dean drove forward.

There was a tall hill, and the closer you got, there was something which appeared to be a building. You had to squint your eyes at the sight of the hideout you weren’t expecting. It looked like a well built establishment. Long windows and rusted industrial looking pipes on the top of the roof. Time hadn’t been kind to it, yet the place was still standing.

Dean parked the Impala just a few feet from what appeared to be the entrance inside the place. You and Sam followed suit, your eyes wandering around the place in curiosity at how intimidating it looked from the outside. You suddenly felt a sort of…excitement hit you out of nowhere. You began wondering what was inside. What kind of secrets that had been hidden away for so many years.

You could only imagine what Bobby’s reaction would be if he were still alive and what you discovered. His home always was like a hideout to you, a safe place to rest your head and scour through his years of dusty books to figure out an answer to solve your problems. It was eventually burnt down by a few levianths from what you heard. This place looked like nothing much of anything could take it down.

“When’s the last time somebody was in this place?” Dean asked, taking notice of how worn down everything looked from abandonment.

You shrugged your shoulders, taking a wild guess at the last time someone even stepped foot around here. “Sixty-five, seventy years ago.”

Dean took out the box from his pocket and opened it up to reveal the key that looked just as old as this place, the only way anyone could get in. You followed behind the boys as all of you made your way down a small flight of steps and to the building to see what was inside. Dean unlocked the door, and stepped inside first. The first thing you were greeted with was pitch black darkness, which was to be expected. You took out your flashlight from your pocket to turn it on, finding your way around the place as you approached something that looked to be a railing and a flight of stairs that lead down to another layer.

You cautiously made your way to the edge of the railing as you peered down to see what you could find. The flashlights from the ones you and the boys were holding illuminated all sorts of equipment and technology that looked straight out of the fifties. You found yourself in awe as you gawked at the things you saw below, making you realize something. This wasn’t just a hide out for the Men of Letters. This was a bunker. A place that was all yours. You found yourself wanting to run down the stairs to discover what else this place had to offer. It looked specious from the outside, but it was so much more bigger on the inside.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean found himself muttering out loud. The man was taken back much as you were from what he saw.

“Look at this. Ham radio, telegraph, switchboard.” Sam listed off a few of things he could see when he made his way down the staircase to get a better look at everything. You followed behind him while Dean stayed up on the top. “This was their nerve center.”

“Henry did say that they ran dispatch on their own team of hunters.” Dean said. He walked over a few feet to what appeared to be a place dedicated to a good old fashion game of chess. Someone was in the middle of one while they smoked and drank their coffee. Dean grabbed the cup to see there was barely anything left, but the years of abandonment left a ring around it. “Wow. Halfway through their coffee and a game of chess—looks like whoever was manning the hub left quick.”

“On the alarm call that ended the Men of Letters.” You said.

Dean continued to wander around to see if he might be able to find anything more interesting to inspect, and in doing so, he found the switch box that had to be what powered up this place. He decided to take a chance and push up one of the levers. It took a second for what sounded to be the generator that sourced power through this place to kick in after so many years of being off.The lights flickered as they slowly began to grow more bright before going to their full compacify. He did the second one, and in doing so, gave full light to the entire bunker.

You found yourself being lured into a room right across the way, the sight of it felt like it was a dream come true. You felt a smile slowly creeping at the ends of your lips while Sam stared at it with astonishment. It was something that felt like it was straight out of your dreams when your sole job was researching, spending hours cooped up in your house or at the public library checking out books. You wanted a place that felt yours and housed all sorts of books you could use at your disposal. And might have just found it.

“Son of a bitch.” The both of you rarely had the talent like him and his brother did at speaking in perfect sync. But the sight of this place made you and Sam stare at it like it was the best thing you ever saw. You began making your way forward, Dean headed down to you and his brother to see what this was all about. Even though he wasn’t the type to get excited about nerdy things, this place was something to be admired from the beauty of it alone.

What you and the boys were staring at was a library, an exquisite room that had all sorts of things for you to admire; from the polished wooden floors, shelves of endless books to read. Not to mention three wooden tables that must have been used by the Men of Letters themselves to do research. All of this had been gone for decades, but it didn’t look like it was. This place was a God sent. A place to explore and do whatever you wanted with. A bunker that was yours. 

“Guys,” Dean spoke up a few seconds after he inspected the place for himself. You felt what sounded to be a laugh coming out from your throat at everything that was going on. “I think we found the bat cave.”

\+ + +

There was no denying you and the boys found something special here. And for the very first time in a long time, you felt at home. More than you ever did back at your own house that was miles away, abandoned for what felt to be years. Unlike your house that you tried to make homey, there were memories that haunted you for years. It felt lonely, too. But this place made you feel safe from all the dangers of the world. And a little closer to a man you lost when you were just a toddler. 

The bunker was like a hidden gem that you were supposed to discard after you discovered it. But there was nobody to tell you to do so. This was rightfully yours, to whatever you pleased. 

You explored more of the bunker to see that it had everything one could need; an impressive kitchen, a garage filled with a whole bunch of sweet rides, gun range, the library that you could spend hours just exploring and skimming through the titles of books you’ve never heard of before that were calling your name to read. And not to mention the bedrooms rooms belonging to fellow Men of Letters. There were so many of them, and Dean wanted to pick the very best one to sleep in for the night.

Sam was too caught up in his urge to explore every book in the library to do much of anything else, leaving you and Dean to figure out sleep conditions tonight. You were fine with pretty much any one to rest your head and get a good night’s sleep. Dean wanted to pick the very best. He looked like a kid in a candy store, endless options he could choose from to call his. You saw him in a way that you never quite did before. And it made a smile stay on your face, along with a warmth in your chest at how comfortable he looked. 

All of you were in and out what felt to be a dozen rooms until he found one that looked clean enough and had a comfortable feeling bed. Dean bounced on the edge, resting out the mattress to see how good it felt. You stood in the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest, finding everything he was doing absolutely memorizing. Even if it was something so small. When Dean looked in your direction to see you staring at him with a smile on your face, he momentarily stopped bouncing, wondering if you thought the way he was acting funny. 

Dean rested his hands behind him as he leaned back, “What are you smiling at?” 

“Oh, nothing.” You said, shrugging your shoulders as you felt your smile grow even wider. “I was just thinking about how adorable my boyfriend is.“

“Adorable, huh? Well, I’ll show you how darn cute I can be.” Dean said. His lips stretch into a smirk as he got himself up from the bed and walked towards you. He grabbed you by your hand, pulling you close to him as he shut the door behind you, giving all of you some privacy. You raised your brow as you wrapped your arms around his neck, having a feeling where this was going. “Let’s see how good this mattress is, huh? Give it a few rounds. I’m sure Sammy’s gonna be busy all night long.” 

You didn’t know how long it had been since the sheets were washed, but your mind slipped away from that thought as you pressed your lips against, Dean, spending your first night in the bunker in complete bliss. You hoped there would be many more to come. Because you had a feeling this place was a blessing in disguise. And it was the start of the life you wanted…the one you needed for your family.

\+ + +

You might have had the best sleep of your entire life, the kind where you slept for more than four hours and didn’t have to worry about keeping a weapon close to you in case something broke in to try and kill you. The best part of it all was waking up in the arms of the man you loved, who looked the happiest he had ever been in a long time. You and Dean found yourselves lying in bed for a little while longer like a normal couple, with your head on his chest while he ran his fingers up and down your arm, enjoying one another’s company.

Much as you would have loved to stay there all day, you eventually rolled out of bed when Dean decided to take a shower and check out the plumbing system to see how it was working after so many decades. A few minutes after he tried to find the bathroom, you searched the floor for any clothes you could put on. Your care free attitude for the morning left you grabbing Dean’s flannel shirt and buttoning it up to keep yourself somewhat modest. You made your way through the bunker until you found the library, where you had left Sam after unexpectedly spending the rest of the night in bed.

“Good morning, Sammy.” You greeted the younger man in a cheerful voice. You noticed he had been busy at work from all the books and written logs spread across the table. Heading over to where Sam was hunched over examining a book, you picked one up yourself and curiously flipping through the pages. “How are you on this beautiful day?”

Sam had been deep in concentration before you walked in here, the Men of Letter literature and information was enough to keep him glued in the library way until the late evening before he picked it up again early this morning. He looked up to see you looking a bit disheveled from how you normally presented yourself. He noticed you had this dreamy expression on your face that seemed like nothing could make it leave. "What are you so happy about?”

“Oh, you know. I might have had the best night’s sleep since I started hunting.” You shrugged your shoulders as you began to walk over to a record player you spotted yesterday that was calling your attention. You noticed there were a few records lying on top of the machine, at the sight of a familiar name, you popped the record on and let the soulful voice of Ella Fitzgerald fill the bunker. "We discovered this sweet, sweet bunker.”

“I’m gonna take it you like it here?” Sam asked in almost a teasing kind of voice.

“Sammy, I feel like a prayer of mine has been answered.” You whispered to him, admitting about how you felt about this place. You looked around to make sure Dean was still showering to continue discussing this matter in private. "This place is like God sent. Or whatever. I don’t care how you want to call us landing an actual place that is fantastic as this. It’s probably the safest place in the world. And it’s ours. I’ve wanted nothing more than to give you and Dean a home. What if this is it?”

Sam knew the bunker was something special that he didn’t want to lose or leave, even if all of you had just spent only one night here. You and him discussed about what you were going to do since in about six months you were going to be bringing a new life into this world that was going to need a home. While the plan was to go back to your hometown and settle down, the bunker came along, and it seemed too good to pass up. It was big and safe, not to mention all of the things that could help hunting. All of this was how you wanted to balance life and raise a child. Maybe then you would finally tell Dean the good news…

You found yourself skimming through a book of lore that caught your attention while Sam went back into his routine of continuing his search through the Men of Letters information and logs they collected over the decades. Dean made his way out of the showers a little while later, a lazy smile on his face, feeling relaxed and refreshed from the good night’s sleep he got along with a shower that was to die for. When you heard his footsteps across the library floors, you turned your gaze up and gave him a smile. 

“Good morning again, handsome.” You greeted the man as you stood up straight to give him another kiss. You noticed he wasn’t dressed yet for the day, instead he was wearing a gray robe and slippers that you knew he didn’t own. 

“Morning, sweetheart. Sammy.” Dean said to the both of you. Sam didn’t even bother looking up from his books; he muttered a morning as he kept on his search. “The, uh, water pressure in the Letters’ shower room is marvelous.”

“Yeah. I still can’t figure out how we even have water…or electricity.” Sam thought out loud. You had a feeling the reason why he was going through all the books and files was to find blueprints of this place to see how it all worked from the inside and out. 

“Yep, well, I am putting that under the ‘ain’t broke’ column.” Dean said, not wanting to bite the hand that offered such a sweet pad that he was enjoying too much to care about the technical part of things. He wandered over to the table where Sam had been hunched over before he moved over to the book shelf to grab another book. Dean skimmed the page and flipped to another, finding all of it the least bit interesting to keep his attention for less than a few seconds. “Listen, little brother, let’s not go all geek on this stuff, okay?”

“‘Geek’?” Sam repeated what his brother said, wondering what exactly the man meant by that. 

Dean’s eyes caught sight of what appeared to be a scimitar on display that was calling his attention. A smile crept at the ends of his lips, suddenly feeling like a kid in a candy store with itchy fingers to touch things they really shouldn’t. “Yeah. Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong.” Dean continued on as he lifted the weapon off the stand to see if it was the real thing. “This stuff is awesome, and it looks like they ran a real tight outfit here, but I’m just saying, you know, don’t, uh, don’t think that they knew some big secrets that we don’t know.”

Sam had his back turned on his brother while you had wandered over to the book shelf to skim the spines once more. Dean struck a pose with the scimitar when nobody was looking, and just as he was swinging it, he suddenly stopped when you caught him red handed. “Dean, what are you doing?” 

“Nothing.” Dean muttered, your tone of voice suddenly making him feel like a child caught doing something he shouldn’t. You rolled your eyes at his behavior and the urge to touch things he shouldn’t. 

“Dean, they were a secret society.” Sam said, continuing back on with the conversation. 

“Which means that they made crap up and wore fezzes and sashes and swung around scimitars. They probably didn’t even sharp—“ Dean thought he was right about his opinion on the Men of Letters and what they did, presuming all of this was some kind of facade for a cultish group. However he was proven wrong when he pressed a finger against the blade, cutting his finger instantly. You crossed your arms over your chest when he flinched. “That’s very sharp.”

“Dean, look, I think we might have something here—something that could help us, help humanity.” Sam said. You felt your lips stretch into a small smile, persuading his older brother into thinking about the idea. “Henry certainly thought so. I mean, you know damn well we could use a break. What if we finally got one?”

“Sam’s right. This place is the one of a kind. It’s got so many things that can benefit the world. And you want to know the best part of all? It’s ours.” You said. Dean looked away from you for a second, as if he was thinking about what he could say to make you change your mind. “Don’t tell me you really want to ditch this place. It feels right to at least entertain the idea of sticking around and seeing what we can make of it. I mean…the bunker could be our home. For good.”

“You guys seriously want to live here?” Dean asked in a more serious tone of voice. He put the schemitar back to its rightful home where he found it to continue on with the k conversation he didn’t think all of you were going to be having after spending only one night here. It seemed you and Sam found yourselves thinking about the future. 

"How about we call it a trial run. Give it some time, and if it’s not what we think it is, we’ll stash it away when we need it.” You persuaded the man into at least entertaining the idea of what you wanted. Dean fell silent once more as his gaze fell away from you. You still weren’t going to back down. “I say we pick a room. Make it ours.” 

Dean’s expression faltered slightly from what you were suggesting, accidentally giving him the wrong impression you were trying to get at. “You don’t want to bunk with me anymore?“

"What? Of course I do. I’m just suggesting all of us have a space that’s just ours. I mean, don’t you want a ‘Dean layer’ you can decorate how you want?” You asked him, proposing an alluring idea that you knew he would be a fool to say no to. “A room where you can go to be all by yourself?”

“Yeah….yeah, I like the sound of that.” Dean agreed with you. His lips stretched into a small smile at the thought of being able to do something he never did before. Settle down for once and call something his own. You felt a sense of relief come over you at how he was starting to warm up to the idea. “Obviously I call dibs on the room we slept in last night.”

“Actually,” You gave the man a bashful sort of smile as your fingers slowly weaved themselves together from what you were about to ask of him. And how it was going to be like pulling teeth to get him to agree. “I was kind of hoping I could take that one. It’s closer to the bathroom.”

“Hey, it’s not my problem you have a tiny bladder lately. I spent forever searching for the perfect bedroom. It’s mine.” Dean said, pointing a finger to his chest to prove his point. “I earned it fair and square.”

“But I’m your girlfriend.” You reminded him. It was a cheap shot of what you were doing in an attempt to get him to sway his judgement for him to do you this one little favor. While you would have happily chosen another room to let Dean be happy, there was something about that one in particular you really wanted. “Don’t you want to do me at least this one favor?”

“You want it so badly? Fine. Let’s settle it this was. Whoever wins get the room. And they get the right side of the bed.” Dean proposed a friendly wager to see who could decide the winner.

When he outstretched his hand to make it into a fist, you knew right away he was trying to settle it with a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. A game that he wasn’t exactly known for being a champion of in the past he played his hand in.. You weren’t the least bit afraid when you copied his actions. Sam stood back and watched as the both of you acted like the grown adults that you were. Your lips stretched into a smirk as you both shook your fists in the air a few times before you drew out your choices; scissors vs. rock.

“You know, I haven’t played in a while, but…” You resisted every urge inside of you that wanted to gloat at the victory from how easy you won this game. “I’m pretty sure rock beats scissors.”

Dean didn’t seem to realize his plan would backfire so badly in his face. He persuaded you to play a few more rounds, thinking his luck would kick in and he’d get to win to claim back the room he secretly wanted. But he lost the three games that followed after that. And you didn’t want to go for a fourth time when he asked after swearing underneath his breath.

“Screw this stupid game.“ Dean grumbled.

"Don’t be mad. You can still sleep in there. You just can’t decorate it. Or sleep on the right side.” You playfully taunted the man, making him mood and glare only grow. You gave him a smile as you decided that it was time to hit the showers, and for Dean to put some actual clothes on. “Are you gonna take off the dead guy robe? It’s starting to creep me out.”

\+ + +

You had a feeling almost all of your worries had been solved. The Men of Letters bunker was something that felt like it was straight out of a sci-fi novel, too good to be true. But it was. And it was yours and the boys. A home you’ve been getting quite comfortable in for the past two weeks. No hunts, no nonsense calling your attention. It was the very first vacation all of you took in a very, very long time. It felt good to sit back and catch your breath, think about the future that didn’t really like it was really happening. Until you went to your very first doctor’s appointment.

You felt like you were walking on cloud nine when you got back to the bunker a few hours later with a smile on your lips that was starting to make your cheeks hurt. But the pain went unnoticed by how good you felt. You announced your arrival when you made your way down the staircase and through the war room and straight to the library that always made you awestruck at the sight of it. That was where Sam was when you left, and still was after you returned. You greeted him with a bubbly hello as a continuous smile while you took a seat across from him.

“Hey.” Sam greeted you with much less enthusiastic tone of voice, too caught up in his research to see why you were so happy. You broke his concentration when you set something down on the table near the corner of his eye. His eyes wandered away just a few short seconds later to see what it was as he reached out to grab it. “What this—”

“Oh, it’s nothing much. Just the ultrasound picture of your future niece or nephew.” You tried your hardest to sound casual but the excitement at what was happening couldn’t be contained anymore. Sam stared at the grainy black and grey photograph of the small being growing inside of your stomach, a look of surprise crossed his face at the good news. “I’m officially in my third month. Everything looks good for the baby and me. And you want to know the best part? I got to hear the baby’s heartbeat, Sammy. Oh my God. It was the best sound in the entire world.”

“That’s great.” Sam said. He continued to stare at the small little thing in the ultrasound picture, a sense of relief coming over him at hearing about how everything was going smoothly. You had taken a few tumbles here and there that made him worried. But it seemed you were just fine. He put the picture back down on the table and slid it back over to you. You picked it back up just a second later to stare at it with a dreamy sort of smile on your face. “So…when are you gonna tell Dean about the good news?”

You found yourself being forced to look away from the picture and to the future uncle. “You really know how to ruin a good moment, don’t you?”

“Hey, I’m not trying to be a dick here. I’m just curious.” Sam said. He put his hands up slightly in the air to show that he meant no harm. That didn’t stop you from giving him a look. “Y/N, you don’t have a lot more time until he’s gonna start getting suspicious.”

You knew he was right about that, and it was the thought that crossed your mind every single time Dean was around you. You managed to keep it a secret over the past few months. You just needed to wait for the right time. You had a feeling this was perfect. And time was passing faster than you expected. You kept pushing it off because you wanted to wait until the time was right and you had a few problems solved. You had a feeling this was the perfect time.

You could have told him the news when you heard his arrival by the sound of his shoes on the staircase and his voice echoing not too far away. But a sense of panic washed over you when you realized that you were still holding the ultrasound picture. Thinking quick on your feet, you reached for a book that Sam had lying on the table and quickly shoved the picture inside.You knew it was a stupid thing to do, but your jumpy behavior went unnoticed by Dean after you saw him make his way into the library. You rested your elbow on the table and gave the man a smile at the sight of him after being away for a few days.

"How’s Kevin doing?” You struck up a conversation with the older Winchester for the reason why he was gone in the first place.

“You know. He’s okay, I guess. In his corner, hacking out his Da Vinci code. Nothing actionable yet. Gath says hi, by the way.” Dean gave you a small update about what he found out after checking up on the prophet, along with passing along a message from the hunter that was keeping an eye on him. You smiled slightly as Dean dropped his bag to one of the tables and made his way over to the mini fridge conveniently stocked with beer. He grabbed one and twisted off the top, only to throw the cap to the table and make his way over to the one you and his brother were occupying.u. “Anything from Cas?”

“Not. Not a peep.” Sam said. You shook your head at the lack of contact you had gotten from the angel over the past few weeks. It had been complete radio silence since he disappeared in a very strange way. And it was starting to worry you at his lack of contact. “Why? You?”

“No, he’s not answering.” Dean said, standing over the table for a moment to flip through a file out of curiosity before taking a seat next to you.

“Right. Well, I have been trying to chart out the Letters’ network of hunters, their allies, affiliated groups they worked with, kept files on.” Sam explained the things that had been keeping his attention over the past few weeks. And all of the papers around the library. Going through documents that dated back to 1958 was tedious work. “Most are dead or defunct, but others—I’m not so sure about. And this one, you should definitely check out.”

You reached for the file and opened it up to see what he had found. You skimmed the first page to see that it was something that was rather interesting. “The Judan Intintive?”

“European team—they were active during world war two.” Sam said, giving a few more rather interesting details.

“Really? Hunters fighting in a war,” Dean leaned over slightly to take a look at the file for himself and see what he could learn. “that’s cool.”

“Not exactly hunters, not exactly fighting,” Sam corrected his brother. “But, uh…”

“Rabies. Rabies?“ You found yourself figuring out what the younger man was trying to lead with. You looked up from the file for a moment with a slightly arched brow at what he found. "Really?”

“The Letters’ file on them is sketchy, but, apparently, they were hard-core saboteurs. So, I ran a search on the initiative’s entire roster, and I got a hit– one rabbi Isaac Bass. He was seventeen years old when he joined the initiative and eighty-five years old when he died…two weeks ago.” Sam went on, explaining the situation that lead up to all of this. He turned his laptop around to show you and his brother the news article he found online. “In a college town back east, he was capped.”

”'Capped’?“ Dean repeated the younger man’s words. He reached out to grab the laptop and drag it closer to him so he could read the article for himself.

"He was there doing research, and according to eyewitnesses, he spontaneously combusted.” Sam said. He gave you the reason why this caught his eye in the first place and was worth mentioning. You’ve heard of previous cases in the past about people spontaneously catching fire, but in this way it sounded all too suspicious. And the fact that he was affiliated with the Men of Letters was enough to make you realize this couldn’t be ignored.

“So…this is a case?” Dean took a wild guess about all of this and why it was important. He wasn’t exactly too thrilled about leaving the bunker once more after being gone for the past few days. He wanted to sit back and enjoy his beer, relax after being able to do so for over a week. He grabbed his drink and leaned back in his seat, slightly annoyed with how none of what he wanted was going to come true. “I just got back.”

You found the annoyed look on Dean’s face adorable for some reason. You decided to let him rest and enjoy himself for a little while before hitting the road once more to figure out this case. You grabbed the file to look over once more, but before you left the boys, you leaned over slightly to give Dean a quick peck on the cheek, mumbling a reassurance that all of you would be back home in no time. He didn’t pipe up to correct you about calling the bunker a home, because after a few weeks, he was already settled with the idea of staying in this place for a very long time.

\+ + +

The next afternoon you and the boys arrived in Pennsylvania to investigate more of the death of the rabbi to see if it might be supernatural, or just the circumstances of something that science had yet to figure out. Spontaneous human combustion was a thing that happened a few times before to people with no sort of explanation, however you had students who witnessed the man’s death and might be able to shed some more light on what happened. Sam parted ways with you when he decided to check out the rabbi’s research and figure out if it might be linked to the reason of his sudden and unexpected cause of death.

You and Dean headed off to the college campus to track down the eyewitnesses who saw the sight first hand. Almost everyone had the same story they repeated to the cops about Isaac Bass; an old guy who hung around a lot at the library and chatted up students about stories that made little sense, only to someone who was probably losing their mind due to old age. Most of the people you talked to couldn’t elaborate more on the stories Isaac went on about due to needing to get to class or didn’t want to. Lucky for you and Dean, when you got the campus pub there was a few students who had lent him and ear from time to hear about his wild stories. And got a front row seat of Isaac’s death the night it happened. 

“He was a really nice old kook.”

“Really nice.”

The two college students who witnessed Isaac’s death first hand were two volleyball players that shared more than just their peppy attitudes and outfit. They sat across from you and Dean while they told you about Isaac. You smiled slightly as you raised your brow slightly from their wording about how they described the man as you repeated it, asking what they meant by that. The blonde sitting across from you look at her friend before back at you to elaborate more.

“You know, he’d talk a lot to us, to himself, to anyone who’d listen.” The blonde said. “He was always talking about this secret war that nobody knew was going on.”

“Conspiracy stuff.” The other one added. “He was obsessed with Nazis.”

“But he said they were ‘special Nazis,’ you know…” The blonde turned her head slightly over her shoulder to take a quick glance around the pub to see that all of the students were either talking among themselves or too engaged with their phones to care much about what all of you were discussing about two things that never should go together. “Necromancers. Like, from what world of whatever-craft that my little brother is always playing.”

You dealt with a lot of weird stuff in your time while hunting and came across many forms of evil, but you weren’t lucky yet to come across a couple Nazis and put a bullet in their brain. But you had your fair share of people who tried to raise people from the dead with consequences. You wrote the two words down on the small notepad you had opened and outlined it, knowing there was going to be a fair bit of research tonight for you and Sam to figure out how the two worked in together. You knew well enough it wasn’t going to be something for the greater good if it had one of the very worst forms of humans the world had ever seen.

“It’s sad, isn’t it,” The student sitting across from Dean spoke up. You looked up from the paper to hear what she had to say about the poor soul who she thought was losing his mind. “That old people have to go so crazy.”

“I know.” Her friend said. “It is sad.”

You nodded your head in agreement as you kept your gaze down to your notepad while you wrote down a few more things that would be useful for you in the near future. Dean peered over slightly to see what you were writing, but he found his attention lingering away from the table when he felt someone’s eyes on him, like before. He casually glanced around the pub and made eye contact with a man sitting across the room. The stranger gave the man a little too friendly of a smile as he waved. Dean turned his head slightly to see that you were still engrossed in your writing. He realized the man wasn’t waving at you…but him. 

Dean found himself slightly taken aback as he turned his attention back to the two college students. “You, um…” The older Winchester found himself trailing off for a second, his eyes wandering back to the stranger across the bar, but the man looked away from him. You gave him a slightly confused expression before he pulled himself back to normal. “I’m sorry. You, uh, you both saw the accident?”

“I can still hear his screams.” The woman sitting across Dean said, giving you a visual for what the both of them had to witness. 

“It was like the fire was alive, like,” Her friend continued on. “like it was attacking him.”

The other woman nodded her head on agreement. “It was like that.” 

Dean found himself drifting away from the conversation and to the man across the bar when he realized he was still being stared at, in a way that was making him grow skeptical something was going on here. He excused himself from the conversation, leaving you alone to the volleyball players he might have stuck around to talk to a little while longer if he was single. But his focus was on the stranger who had no business following him around campus. And it was starting to get under the man’s skin. 

Dean caught the guy off guard when he was drifting off to space and staring at someone else in the bar to make himself look a little less conspicuous. The older Winchester knew better than to think this was anything more than something serious. Dean got the man’s attention when he slapped his fake badge down on the table, making the stranger look back at him, slightly startled at the introduction he wasn’t expecting so soon.

Dean introduced himself as Special Agent Bolan, the same name to the rest of his fellow classmates he’d been talking to for the past few hours. He expected the stranger to grow a little nervous out of fear for why the FBI was lurking around campus, but the man’s reaction was anything what he was expecting. He stared at the badge with a sort of bashful smile on his lips, the kind Dean saw on many females faces when he told whatever sort of authority role he was playing to impress them. 

“Oh, really? Wow.” The man said, smiling slightly as he let out a chuckle. “I thought you were like a headhunter or something.”

“This is the second, maybe third time I’m seeing you today?” Dean wondered, bringing up the numbers of times he saw the man’s face around campus that was more than just a coincidence. His tone of voice might have been casual, yet the serious expression on his face was anything but. “Why you following me, Gingerbread?”

"Oh, so, we, um…” The man found himself growing slightly embarrassed at what was going on and the miscommunication between the both of them. “we didn’t have a thing back there, huh?”

Dean felt himself being thrown through a loop at what the man was talking about, things weren’t clicking just yet. “Back where? W-what now?”

“I thought we had a thing back at the quad, you know, a little ‘eye magic’ moment,” The man explained to the older Winchester. Dean suddenly felt the wheels turning in his head. He slowly retracted his badge and flipped it closed. He slightly peered over his shoulder to see that you were wrapping up the conversation with the two students, not having a single clue of what was going on. “and I saw you here and I figured I’d wait until you were done with your meeting and maybe we might, uh…”

Dean had his fair share of flirtatious talk to know what was going on here, hell, he was the one normally giving it to the person that caught his eye. And plenty of women have tried it on him when he was single, even taken. But never in his time had this happen. “Yeah, uh, okay, but no—no moment. This is a….” Dean was normally casual and collected under these kind of situations, but he found himself growing like a babbling idiot. “federal investigation.”

“Is that supposed to make you less interesting?” The man tried to make a joke as he chuckled. Dating was hard for everyone when you weren’t sure who liked who, but Dean had to give the man props for having good taste. “No, I’m sorry, man. I hope I didn’t freak you out.”

“No. No. I-I’m n-not freaked out. It’s just a, you know…a federal thing. It’s a…” Dean realized that he was rambling on like an idiot, the exact same kind of way he used to behave when he was a young teen. He cleared his throat to try and compose himself before he could make himself out to be any more of an idiot. He was saved by the sounds of your approaching heels clicking away. “Okay, citizen. As you were.”

“You have a good night.” The man said, watching as Dean began to walk away.

“You—You…” Dean turned around to face the man to give him a nice farewell, but he found himself forgetting to stop walking. He accidentally felt his backside hit a table with a few empty glasses on the table, his collusion made them clank together, causing a few eyes to wander over to him to see. Dean felt his cheeks beginning to grow warmer. “have a…okay.”

Dean managed to get far enough away without making an idiot out of himself again. You stood waiting for him at the front door with your arms crossed over your chest, wondering what was taking so long. When you saw him approaching, you were ready to head out, but you found yourself lingering behind at the sight of Dean you didn’t think you’ve really ever seen him before. You furrowed your brow slightly at the sight of his cheeks, that were the slightest tinge of pink.

“What’s with you? Someone mistake you for a college student?” You joked with him, knowing the both of you were well past the prime age of your youth. Dean shook his head and said nothing more. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked around to see who he was talking to that was making him so…bashful. You didn’t see a young woman that was ten years younger than you on her own, but you did happen to spot a familiar face you noticed while roaming around the campus. “Hey, doesn’t that guy look—”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Turns out it was just a…misunderstanding.” Dean said. He smiled, the kind of way as if someone had told him he was cute. You looked at him before back at the man sitting by himself with a drink. It took you a second before you realized what was going on. It seemed someone had tried to make a pass at him, but it was the opposite gender this time. You let out a quiet chuckle, finding this a little too amusing. “Let’s get out of here, huh?”

You nodded your head in agreement as you pulled out your ringing phone from your pocket to see that it was Sam calling. As the both of you made your way out of the pub and back on campus grounds, you looked back over at the man one more time to get a good look at him, thinking you wouldn’t see him ever again. “Eh, he’s cute. But you could do better.” You muttered. Dean gave you a look from how you were still keeping the topic going, you smiled to yourself and answered your phone before it was too late. “Hey, Sammy.“

"Hey. So I looked into the rabbi’s research. It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Um…” Sam fell silent for a moment over the phone, making you wonder what was going on with him. He spoke up a few seconds later to tell you what he found. “bird watching.”

“Huh. Well, the two co-captains of the women’s volleyball team Dean and I talked to agreed that the rabbi’s death was very unnatural.” You told the younger Winchester. “I think we’ve still got a case.”

“That would explain why I have something stuck to my shoe.” Sam said. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked over at his older brother that was standing next to you, prompting you to ask if he was being followed. “Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s weird.” You said, starting to walk to the Impala with the older Winchester. “Dean thought him and I were being followed earlier.”

“Turns out it was just a gay thing.” Dean felt the need to add that detail to clarify loud enough for his brother to hear over the phone. You stared at the man for a second from what he felt the need to announce, Sam’s voice on the other line echoed a 'what’ at his brother’s confession that dismissed the situation as nothing to worry about. Dean ignored your look as he snatched your phone away to talk to his brother. “Nothing. You need a hand?”

“Yes, please.” Sam said. “Some place quiet?”

“Visitors parking—the boonies. I’ll park in the back. You meet up with Y/N.“ Dean said, coming up with a plan of action. You made your way to the passenger side as Dean got himself behind the wheel. “Thirty minutes.” 

\+ + +

It was growing darker when you met up with Sam in front of the library and spent a few minutes talking to one another, pretending to be engaged with something that sound important to throw his shadow off. You and him started to make your way back to the Impala that was parked a good distance away where you met up. The metal ring that held the keys to the Impala dangled off your index finger while Sam walked in sync with you, both of you pretending to be oblivious about your surroundings as you carried on a conversation. 

You complained about your feet hurting you, Sam told you to wear more practical shoes on the days where it required a lot of walking. You tossed him a dirty glare as you made your way to the trunk of the Impala, pretending to fetch a different pair of shoes. Sam made it seem like he was about to make his way to the passenger side, but he stayed close. You began to casually flip through each key, trying to remember which one went to the car. However, due to your slippery finger, you accidentally dropped them to the pavement. Instead of picking it up right away, you looked over at Sam, giving him a small smile from what you were about to do.

"Oh, no. I’m such a klutz. Sammy, can you help a pregnant woman out?” You asked him, loud enough for him to only hear. “My back hurts when I bend down.”

Sam pretended to give you an annoyed look at what you were asking of him, he did it anyway. It wasn’t a total lie. You turned your back to the bushes that were behind you, a perfect spot for someone to be crouching down right now and spying on your every move. If you had to guess, Dean was making his move as you and his brother distracted the stranger. And that’s where you ran into a slight problem. Well, more of a huge one.

The Winchester boys were rather tall; Dean was a good six feet somethin’ while his little brother had three more inches on him that caused him to tower over most, you especially. However the person following Sam wasn’t someone that compared to his height…not even close.

Sam was about to push himself up back to his feet when something unexpected happened that sent you and him to look behind you. It started off with the sound of someone screaming, which you quickly learned was Dean after you saw him go flying in the air—and land directly into a parked van that made you wince at the impact it had. Broken glass from the windows cushioned his fall as he dropped to the pavement.

You called out the man’s name in a panicked tone as you saw him curl up at the pain settling in his body from the impact that you knew had to cause some damage. Your first instinct was to go running towards him to make sure that he was all right. But what you saw emerging from the bushes, who had thrown a man very much heavier than you through the air like he was nothing more than a rag doll made you rethink your decision.

"Oh my God. Oh my God.” You weren’t the type of hunter to panic when you saw a dangerous hunter coming your way. Hell, almost all of the time you went running towards it, ready to take it down once and for all. But who you saw charging forward at you made you realize this was something you hadn’t really ever dealt with before. You found yourself acting like a deer in headlights, your mind trying to wrap around the fact that a giant was coming your way, probably ready to give you the same treatment he gave to Dean. “Sammy…”

You had gotten pretty lucky from the tumbles you took here and there while hunting that didn’t disrupt the baby. That was when you went up against monsters you knew like the back of your hand. But what you saw approaching you…it was nothing you’ve seen before. And didn’t want to be near. Sam tried his hardest to work quick as he could to unlock the trunk and retrieve a weapon he could use against the thing coming your way. He snatched a machete and yanked you by your arm, getting you behind him so you were out of harm’s way. Sam swung the weapon to the arm that was coming in his direction to try and slow the giant down.

The blade sunk into the forearm of the monster, the one that was sharp enough to slice through a human neck, but it didn’t do much of anything. You felt your eyes grow slightly wider as your mouth fell open at the sight of the machete in flesh without needing more than one swing. But the machete didn’t do much of anything to slow the creature down. You felt your eyes grow slightly more wider as you mouth fell open at the sight of the blade stuck in the monster’s arm, nothing more than just a dent. No blood, no cut.

Sam had to use all the strength he had to yank the machete out from the creature’s arm, but before he could take another swing, it seemed the creature wasn’t too happy with what the younger man had did. You could only watch as Sam was grabbed ahold by the neck from a hand that had to be big as your head. Without even breaking a sweat, the thing lifted up Sam off the ground, letting his feet dangle for a good few seconds as the man struggled to breathe. Your mouth was wide open and your brain was screaming for you to tell the creature to stop hurting Sam, but the fear of what you were staring at made you fall mute. However it seemed someone had come to the rescue, ordering for the creature to stop.

Sam felt his feet hit the ground after only a few seconds as he inhaled a much needed breath after his neck was squeezed tighter than he’d ever felt before. You knew there was another man standing next to Sam, who had commanded for the enormous giant to stop hurting Sam, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off the thing that towered over Sam and made you feel like Thumbelina. The thing you were staring at…he was nothing you’ve encountered before. It was like the Incredible Hulk.

"What the…” You brain began to finally start working when it began stuttering out words as you continued to stare up at the giant in front of you. Your neck was starting to grow sore from having to look so high up. The creature stared down at you and Sam, showing no sort of emotion to indicate what he was thinking, or if he was planning on killing you with his bare hands that could easily snap your neck like a twig. "What the hell is that?”

“He’s a golem.” You found your gaze lingering away from the monster that now had an identity. You looked over to see a face you spotted earlier today at the pub. The man who tried to make a pass on Dean. “Well, he’s my golem.”

You managed to force a smile at the bit of information that didn’t make you feel any better about this situation. The man didn’t seem like he was here to harm any of you, despite the fact that the golem had thrown Dean across the parking lot, where he remained almost forgotten—until you heard him mutter something about his spleen. You quickly looked over to see him still on the ground curled up in pain. You winced slightly as you made your way over to him, wanting to make sure he was all right and there was no broken bones you needed to worry about.

\+ + +

At first things seemed to be going in a bit of a strange direction in this hunt; Nazi necromancers, a rabbi who burst into flames with his last book checked out for his research about bird watching and a golem that belonged to a guy named Aaron. But all of it was connected together. You and the boys were invited back to Aaron's’ motel he was renting to discuss things in a more private setting. You were the last one inside while Aaron intended to be the first after he unlocked the motel to his motel room, but his golem pushed him out of the way, wanting to scope out the place for any more potential danger before all of you were heading inside.

“The rabbi who was murdered, Isaac Bass, he was my grandfather. That’s why we’re here.” Aaron explained the situation that lead all of you here. “When you guys started to follow up on his case, we started following you.”

“So, wait. What you’re saying is that you and me—we, uh, didn’t have a moment?” Dean couldn’t help himself but linger back to the first encounter he had with the man that gave him the wrong impression. And made him fumble around like an idiot. You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled your eyes as you let out a sigh, wondering why he had to bring it back up in the first place.

“No, man.” Aaron said, his face scrunching up slightly. “I was tailing you.”

“Told you I was being followed. He was my gay thing.” Dean turned his attention to you and his brother. You raised your brow slightly as you gave him a look, wondering why he was still going on about it longer than he should. Dean seemed to have gotten the hint. “That was really good. You really had me there. That’s very smooth.”

“Yeah, well, smooth’s just about all I got.” Aaron said. You found your gaze lingering away from the man and to the golem that had been circling around the motel, keeping a watchful eye on things. You weren’t sure what to make of the golem, but it seemed his relationship with Aaron was anything but pleasant when he stared down at the man with an almost disapproving look. Aaron stared back at him, showing the thing that he wasn’t in the mood to take any of his crap tonight “Yeah, that’s right. Keep walking…you chia pet.”

"So, that’s a golem?” Sam asked, pointing a finger to the creature that began walking around the motel once more.

“Yes. Shaped from clay and brought to life by rabbis to protect the jewish people in times of—I don’t know—general crappiness.” Aaron said. You’ve heard a few things about the creatures from time to time during your search, but not enough to realize they were real. Or would have been so large. You couldn’t help yourself but to clarify if the one lingering around here was his. “Hardly. My grandfather left him to me. I’m the last surviving descendant of the members of this…thing, this…initiative.”

“The Judah Initiative?” You asked him, wondering if that’s what he was trying to remember.

“Right, and he—”

“Who?!” You suddenly felt yourself jump out of your own skin at the booming voice coming from directly behind you that took you off guard. You peered over and then up to see it was the golem hovering over you, You smiled slightly, hoping he would get the impression that you weren’t much of a threat. “Who are they to know about the Men of Judah?”

“It’s okay.” Dean reassured the golem in a slow tone of voice for him to understand. You could only presume it was more patronizing than helpful. “We are the good guys.”

“We’re hunters. This is Sam and Dean Winchester. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You introduced yourself to the golem in more detail to let him understand you weren’t here to cause any harm. "We know about the Judah Initiative because their grandfather was a Man of Letters. My father was one, too.”

“Yes.” The golem said, recognizing the title as he stared down at you and the boys, with the type of look that reassured you he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt you. “The rabbis knew the Men of Letters.”

Aaron offered all of you something to drink along the line of beer, much as you would have enjoyed one, you forced yourself to politely decline. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you liked to have the occasional one, but that wasn’t going to be possible for another several months to a year. You did however take a seat when he gestured to a couch that you happily sank down on to rest your aching feet and back. You leaned back as the boys cracked open their beers. 

“So…your grandfather was into all this supernatural stuff, too?” Aaron struck up a conversation when he took a seat on the chair across from Sam. 

“The whole family. Mom’s side was hunters, Dad was a Men of Letters.” You told him about your history that was somewhat similar to the boys. “However they tried to hide it from me. Obviously didn’t work out too well.”

“Yeah, grandparents, mom, dad, truckload of cousins—the whole family was lousy for it, but we…” Dean said, giving the man some background about his and Sam’s family to tell more about himself. While he went on, he found himself trailing off for a moment, finding his attention lingering to the giant man roaming around the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the place. “never had a golem.”

“Right. Yeah, we grew up in it,” Sam said, nodding his head to his brother. “But you didn’t?”

“My grandfather’s adventures, the initiative, the golem, the war—they were the stories that he told me when I was a kid. I thought it was make-believe. So did my parents. You know, fantasies to help him cope with all the horrible stuff he’d seen,” Aaron said, giving you and the boys some context to his own past. It made sense that Aaron would have thought the rambles he heard was nothing more than stories.. Being a survivor from one of the worst genocides in human history, witnessing things that you only learned about from pure evil. “but every once in awhile, crazy old grandpa Bass would come back on one of his trips, hand me a twenty dollar savings bond, and say, ‘One day you’ll inherit the mantle.’

Sure enough, a few days after he died, this big box shows up at my apartment. He always said I’d know what to do, which was crap,” Aaron went on, growing angry as he pointed a finger to the giant that was his responsibility. “because when I opened that box, this big, naked, potato-faced lunatic wakes up and goes crazy!“

“I didn’t…” The golem stopped at the window for a moment to examine the empty parking lot to make sure there was no lurking danger in the darkness of the night. It seemed he would have begged to differ on the harsh words Aaron was speaking about him. "go crazy.”

“You trashed my entertainment center!” Aaron shouted. You furrowed your brow slightly at how worked up he was getting about things that could have been easily replaced. Maybe with something better since it wasn’t the nineties anymore. “He broke my water bed.”

“This boy knows nothing.” The golem said. It seemed he was growing tired of being spoken down to by the man who should have known more about his religion and took pride in after what his grandfather and others like him went through to freely practice their beliefs. “Observes none of the mitzas, labors on sabbath, dines on swine.“

“Everybody loves bacon!” Aaron defended himself against judgement.

“He’s no rabbi. Yifalchunbee!” The giant shouted a word that didn’t sound German from the words that you remembered, it had to Hebrew. A language you knew nothing about. Aaron seemed to understand somewhat of what it meant when he rolled his eyes, muttering about how he didn’t want to start with this again. The golem didn’t listen as he repeated himself to try and get through to the younger man.“ Yifalchunbee!”

“Enough! Please!” Aaron shouted once more in annoyance. “Quiet time!”

The golem stared down at the man before he went back to pacing around the motel. You let out a sigh from how well none of this was going for any of you. “All right. What was that?” The younger Winchester asked. “What was he saying?”

"It’s Hebrew for something like 'take charge,’ but I have no idea what he means.” Aaron admitted to all of you. He was in the dark about all of this much as you and the boys were. “Look, I grew up in Short Hills, I cheated my way through Hebrew school. I never really listened to my grandfather, what he was saying.”

“So, wait—he just sends you this golem,” Dean began speaking, but dropped his voice to a more quieter tone when he noticed the very man he was talking about cross through the small living room area. “And expects you to work it out?”

“He didn’t get much chance to prepare me, I guess. My parents—they did everything they could to prevent him from screwing me up with all his crazy talk.” Aaron said. “See, after the war, my grandfather spent the rest of his life trying to track down something he called the thule society.”

“The thule society. Right.“ Sam said, recognizing the name. "They were Nazis.”

You and Dean looked over at one another when you realized how this connected to what the two college girls you were speaking to earlier today about the hate group. “Nazi necromancers.”

“N-necro-who?” Aaron asked, stuttering out the word he heard you mention.

“Necromancer—witches, sorcerers, dark magic, mostly with dead people.” You explained to him in more of a definition with the word that he would understand

“Okay.” Aaron muttered to himself, not sure if he really knew what was going on here and how the two went together. “All I know about the thule is that they were this twisted, secret fraternity hell-bent on world domination, that sponsored the early days of the Nazi party. My grandfather said the judah initiative was started to fight them.”

"And the thule murdered your grandfather, boy.” The giant said, putting the pieces together himself from the knowledge he knew. “Find them so I can do my work!”

You weren’t the type of person that scared easily considering the things you’ve seen in your time of hunting. But an almost seven foot tall person with arms bigger than your head made you a little jumpy. Without warning, the golem smashed a table into pieces slamming his fist down. His outburst made you jump slightly in the air as you subconsciously reached out a hand to grab a hold of Dean’s arm, as if the giant was about to attack all of you. When you made sure that he went back on his way of roaming around the place, you calmed down slightly and composed yourself back to somewhat normal.

“Hey! Hey! We’re renting here! Renting.” Aaron shouted at the golem to try and get him to calm down so he wouldn’t be spending any more money than he had to replace things. He let out a sigh and began rubbing his forehead out of frustration. “Look…I think the golem’s right. My grandfather– he left me this message on my machine the day he died, and he said that he had found something that the thule were willing to kill him for. He said he was hiding it here in plain sight.”

Aaron pulled something out of his back pocket that appeared to be a folded up post-it note. “He left me this weird—I don’t know—equation. It’s not a phone number or an address or coordinates–Q-L-6-7-3-W-8?”

Dean grabbed the piece of paper from the man to see if he might be able to figure it out for himself about what it could have been. His guess was a combination, when you looked over to see what it might have been, it took a second before you realized what the letters and numbers really meant. And where you could use this information for your own benefit.

“Oh, it’s a call number. Library of Congress—their filing system, they use it in college libraries. Uh, Q-L-6-7-3—that’s…sciences.” You started thinking out loud about what the rabbi wanted his grandson to see and where it was stashed. When you thought back to the last bit of research he did at the college, you looked over at the younger Winchester. “Wait, Sammy. Didn’t you say the last thing Isaac checked out was bird watching?”

When Sam nodded his head, you felt your lips stretching into a victorious smirk as you snatched the paper out of the older Winchester’s hand to hold onto. You didn’t even say anything else to give the men a clue of what you were thinking about. You pushed yourself up to your feet and made your way out of the place, heading to the Impala to make a quick stop at your own motel to change clothes and then to the college library. That’s where you found find the research that caused Isaac Bass’ life.

\+ + +

You liked to think you knew libraries pretty well; from spending your late teens into your early twenties in one for hours at a time, several days a week to do research and other times for your own personal enjoyment. You got to know the structure and how they organized things pretty well after a while, you even thought about going to college to become a librarian to make something of your life. You loved books and thought it would be worthwhile to spend your days being paid to roam around a place you spent a majority of your time in beside your house. But then hunting fell in your lap and this was where you ended up in your career, breaking and entering into the college library to find a book that a man was killed for by a bunch of Nazi necromancers.

It was normal for you and the boys to bend the rules wherever you went, it was part of the job you learned not to feel so bad about. Aaron, however, felt a little weird when he realized he was trespassing on college ground after hours. You and the boys didn’t react much about making sure not to get caught when you made little effort to see if there was any security or anyone else around that might spot you. You were the first one in, the boys followed behind as Aaron trailed behind, who was a little hesitant to be part of breaking the law.

“What, do three just break in wherever you go?” Aaron couldn’t help himself but ask, his golem following behind him, making the giant the last one to step inside.

“Yeah, well,” Dean opted for the sarcastic reply when he put away his lockpick back into a safe spot for next time he’d need it. “our dad wanted us to have a solid career to fall back on just in case this hunter thing didn’t pan out.”

You looked around the library and spotted the directory of the place, telling you every section of this place and what level to find it on. You skimmed the many different subjects the library had to offer until you find the science one, which was on the second floor. “Okay, so if I’m right, then I think your grandfather switched manuscript FD113 out of the archives.”

You told the boys that you’d be right back, thinking it would only take a few minutes for you to find the book on your own while they waited for you to return. You jogged up the staircase and made your way to the second level of the library that was eerily quiet like you suspected, finding the science section that got you started on your hunt for the book. You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for as you walked past dozens of bookshelves with hundreds of books that were properly protected with a little white sticker to help keep track of them. All you needed to do was find one that wasn’t like the rest. It shouldn’t have been too hard.

You skimmed a few more shelves until you found the section you were looking for and made your way between them, skimming the many spines to find the one that was missing. You furrowed your brow slightly as you tediously read each one, until you noticed a leather bound book that was unmarked, seeming to be hiding in a spot where someone would find a book on bird watching. You took a chance by grabbing the book off the shelf to find that it was much heavier than you realize. And would soon know you weren’t the only one up here looking for such an important thing that was worth killing for.

As you were about to open it up and see what was inside, you found your hand moving from the book and to the crook of your neck when you suddenly felt almost like a pinching pain. Like you were stabbed with a needle. Your fingers brushed against something small, the slightest pressure you put on it made you wince, and with a forceful tug, you pulled it out of your skin. You lifted it up to see that it appeared to be one of those small darts you’d seen in plenty of adventure movies where the hero was shot with from a stranger in the shadows.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen, but when you felt your body starting to feel weaker and the room spinning, you had a feeling you weren’t going to pass out. The pain in your neck from where you were shot started to grow worse as it began to change into a dark purple color that you didn’t notice. You were too busy trying to stand up and make it out of here alive.

You felt yourself stumbling backwards into one of the shelves as you felt yourself growing even more dizzer. You forced yourself to inhale a deep breath and pull yourself together long enough before you could get another dose of the poison. When you were first hunting after you got back into your own state of mind you didn’t face any real danger you couldn’t get out of. But why was it once you got pregnant you were finding yourself on the chopping block more than ever?

One thing was for sure, there was no way in hell you were dying before you gave birth, especially not at the hands of a damn Nazi. You forced yourself to start walking out of here fast as you could, but you didn’t make it very far when you came face to face with your attacker.

“I owe you thanks.” You saw a man come out from behind a bookshelf, holding what appeared to be the weapon that hit you with the dart. As he got ready to load it once more, you blinked, watching everything around you start to grow even more blurry. By the thick German accent, you had a feeling you had finally met one of Nazis who killed Isaac Bass. "The rabbi got me this far, but you…took me all the way. Now, give me the ledger.”

“Beißen Sie mich, Nazi-Abschaum.*” You might be dying from whatever kind of poison that he gave you, but you would never pass up the opportunity to bad mouth one of the worst people the world had ever seen. You smirked to yourself before you roughly used all the strength that you had to kick a book trolley into him, buying you some time to get out of here before it was too late. Somehow you managed to stagger to the top of the staircase and weakly called out for the boys attention to tell them what was going on. “Help! N-necromancer!“

*Bite me, Nazi scum.

Sam saw you struggling to make it down the stairs on your own, prompting him to push himself up to his feet and race up fast as he could to figure out what was going on. The book you had found was nestled underneath the crook of your arm as you did everything you could to make sure it was still close after you managed to get away. Sam managed to catch you when you felt your knees buckle underneath your weight. Dean wasn’t too far behind his brother as he pulled out his gun, having a feeling he was gonna need it in a moment.

Sam shifted your limp body to try and figure out what was happening to you and why you were growing sickly pale. He noticed something on the side of your neck that seemed out. Brushing away a bit of hair, he noticed a patch of your skin was turning into a concerning shade of deep purple that almost appeared to be a bruise. There was a tiniest puncture hole just below your jaw, making it almost seem like you were pricked with a needle. What the boys were seeing wasn’t a bruise at all, it was a side effect of something. You must have somehow been injected with a poisonous spell and it was spreading through your body—and fast.

Dean noticed for himself about how badly you were handling whatever kind of supernatural spell you were hit with while you were alone. The purple color was starting to spread up your jaw and down your neck. You were barely holding on as Sam heard your groans from the pain you were in, making him fearful if him or his brother didn’t do something soon it might be too late. But the boys were about to have one more person to worry about from what happened next.

The boys had been so focused on your well-being they forgot for a split second the enemy was still without eyes on him, giving a perfect opportunity to strike again. It was when Aaron let out a painful noise of his own that made them realize he was hit by a dart, but before Dean could see who it was, they disappeared from sight. Aaron fell right to the ground; the poison working quicker than either of them were expecting. 

“Crap!” Dean repeated himself when he realized things had turned from bad to worse. He didn’t want to leave you and his brother alone in fear that someone else might get hurt. There was someone Dean had to count on. He looked to the golem and made use of him. “Hey, big guy, they’re both gonna die unless we get whoever cast the spell.”

The golem seemed to understand this was a life or death situation for Aaron and yourself when he went running up the stairs to where the person who caused this. Sam shifted your body around so you were at least sitting somewhat straight up while you rested against him. Your body language and symptoms showed no signs this thing was slowing down. Dean let out a frustrated sigh, a sense of dreadful panic coming over him at the sight of you, knowing he was a sitting duck while he looked over you and Aaron.

All was quiet for a minute or so, making the boys unsure of what was going on, and if letting a giant made out of a lump of clay was a such a good idea in the first place. Dean contemplated on heading up there for himself to see if he could fix this problem once and for all. Before he could do so, the sudden echoing noises of banging against metal made the boys look up straight ahead and to the top of the staircase, wondering what the hell was going on up there.

Dean slowly pushed himself up to his feet and cautiously peered up to the second to see if he might get a glimpse at the action going on. When he heard footsteps, Dean quickly pointed his loaded gun at the top of the stairs, ready to shoot anyone who came down. However he found himself lowering it slightly at the sight of the person who was to blame for all of this as he was being dragged across the floor by the back of his jacket before the golem dropped him down on one of the steps. The necromancer had taken a few rough blows to the head, but it seemed he was still conscious long enough to lift his head up just enough to give the brothers his dying words.

"Long live the Thule.” The necromancer spoke his dying words in a thick German accent, his lips stretching into the kind of smirk that made it almost seem like he was going to get out this as the winner here. But that wasn’t the case when the golem didn’t waste a second in twisting his neck it an inhumanly possible angle, making the boys flinch slightly at the sound of bones snapping.

“Or not.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

Now that the necromancer was dead it meant that whatever sort of spell he put on you and Aaron should start wearing off. Sam noticed the coloring of your skin was starting to go back to normal as the deep purple started to fade away. You felt the effects of the poison starting to wear off as you began to become aware of your surroundings and feeling better than you had just a few minutes ago. While your neck still ached from the dart, you were alive and well, which was more you could say than the dead necromancer lying face down on the ground.

Dean made his way over to you and crouched back down on the ground so he was now back at your level, relief coming over him at the sight of you looking a little more human again. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“I’ve had better days.” You admitted to the boys. You managed to get yourself up to your feet with the help of Sam, making sure to grab the leather bound book that had been worth the fuss from all the trouble you went through to find it. “But we’ve got the book. And one of the bastards is dead. I’d call it a successful night.”

Dean felt himself breathing a little easier knowing you were slowly getting back to your normal self. He directed his attention to the dead body all of you needed to dispose of still and Aaron, who was taking a little longer to recover than you had. You still felt a little dizzy as you made your way down the stairs, Sam made sure to help you before you could take a tumble and hurt yourself even more tonight. While Dean checked on Aaron and the golem took care of the necromancer he killed, you and Sam made your way to the door, the both of you were a good distance away from everyone to talk in private.

He shook his head as he stared down at you, but you could tell from the look on his face that little scare earlier had shaken him up slightly, his mind fearing the worst outcome. “Why do I get the feeling I don’t want you leaving my sight for the rest of these six months?”

“It’s okay, Sammy.” You reassured the man. You nestled the leather bound book underneath the crook of your arm, the size big enough to hide when you pressed your other hand against your stomach, feeling the outline of your growing bump that was starting to becoming more prominent each day. The one that you’d do anything to protect, but also knew wasn’t going to stop you just yet from doing what you’ve always wanted. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a necromancer to take me down.”

\+ + +

A little while later in the middle of nowhere you sat on the hood of the Impala and watched the boys dig a grave for the necromancer that would soon becoming nothing more than ash. You were feeling more yourself now, but it was taking Aaron a little longer to come back around. He eventually did after the grave was dug and the boys were ready to throw the body into the hole. The sound of Aaron shifting around in the backseat made you look behind to see he was sitting up now, wincing in pain at the area where he was shot with the dart.

“The Men of Letters healed you.” The golem told Aaron. “They saved your life.”

“Don’t be so modest, big guy.” You said, turning your attention to the golem as you gave him a small smile. “If it wasn’t for you, the both of us would be dead.”

You turned your head back forward to watch as the brothers dropped their shovels to the ground and grabbed each end of the dead body that was covered in a white sheet for the sake of not getting the car covered in blood after the golem hit the necromancer’s head a few too many times. Aaron watched from the backseat as the boys dropped the dead body into the hole they just dug, prompting him to ask what they were doing. You crossed your arms over your chest and casually replied they were burying the necromancer. Well, that was really only part of it.

You’ve been apart of the ritual of burning the body to keep it from coming back to life, becoming unfazed by the sight of the boys grabbing a few gas canisters and pouring some into the freshly dug grave, probably talking among themselves about what to do with the golem, another problem you were going to have to deal with after taking down this Thule society. Dean finished up things by striking a match and throwing it into the hole, igniting a fire that lit up the night, and prompting Aaron to freak out slightly from what he was witnessing.

“Oh, my God.“ Aaron muttered to himself. "These guys are psychopaths.”

You chuckled quietly at his reaction to the things that he were seeing that was unsettling to the normal bystander. Aaron had a giant man made out of clay and his grandfather was murdered by necromancer Nazis to get a hold of a book that you still weren’t sure was so important. You were pretty sure he was far behind the line of what normal was anymore.

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys were back at the motel Aaron was renting to see what you could find out about this book. Everything was written in German making it hard for Sam to figure out anything and would require him to translate it to English. However, he almost forgot that you knew more than English and Latin. You spent a little while flipping through the pages and loosely translating the words to see what it was. While you were a tiny bit rusty on your German, you got the gist of what you were reading was about the horrors that went on decades ago. And why the Thule society wanted it back so badly.

Dean made a coffee run into town since there wasn’t much he could really do at the moment. The man avoided research like it was the plague, only doing it when he absolutely had to. You sent him off to be useful by grabbing some caffeine and breakfast while you and his brother worked together in trying to figure out what made the book so important. A short while after he left, you moved your gaze away from the laptop screen and to the door when you saw Dean had come back with a tray of paper cups and a box of what you presumed was breakfast.

“What did you guys find out?” Dean asked,

“If my translations are correct, I think it’s a logbook from a Nazi compound in Belarus.” You told the man, grabbing the cup he sent down for you and sliding it forward. “It was run by the Thule.”

“This is the red ledger.” Aaron said. He had wanted to take a look for himself at the book that was the reason why his grandfather was dead and he was dragged into this situation in the first place. Dean took off his jacket and dropped himself in the empty seat to get himself comfortable. “It was lost in the fire that destroyed the compound, but my grandfather was convinced it had been found after the war.”

“Well, it describes the horrible experiments performed on the camp’s population…magical experiments.” You explained to them. You let out a sigh as you stared at the laptop screen where you had already translated a passage before while reading, you just wanted to double check your work to be sure. “Manchmal denke ich, dass Menschen die echten Monster sind.* I mean, what these people went through…” 

*Sometimes I think humans are the real monsters.

You’ve seen evil up close and personal during your few decades of being alive that weren’t for the faint of heart, along with going to hell twice. Not to mention the sick and horrifying things that happened to you that still gave you nightmares to this day. All of that was consequences of what you knew was going to happen, done by creatures that tortured your life was created by the devil himself, their souls were tweaked and sculpted to be heartless and cruel. But humanity…it was something you still didn’t understand. And probably never will.

You had people like Hitler and Nazis who outed a group of people based upon their own religion or didn’t fit into what they thought was the “perfect” race. Hate groups for people who didn’t share the same skin color, who loved someone of the same gender. Anyone who didn’t fit into their ideal mindset was a problem that deserved to be wiped out. Nobody deserved to be treated as if they were nothing because they didn’t fit into someone’s ideas and had their lives tortured because of something so significant. You made your own misery, you had time to come to terms with what you did. But not these people who were hauled off and dragged to concentration camps were they most likely were shot and killed if they were lucky.

Those who survived were forced to live through horrifying conditions, treated like guinea pigs for these sick bastards for their experiments and enjoyment. What you wouldn’t do to personally put a bullet in their brains. Nazis and ideas alike was what real evil was all about. You could kill everyone still remaining alive today, but you couldn’t destroy the ideology behind their thinking. Much as you would love to. Evil comes in different forms, and they were just one of many.

“More horrible than words.” The golem seemed to have finished your thought when you found yourself trailing off. You looked over to see the giant was standing towards the kitchen window, falling silent once more. You furrowed your brow slightly from what he said, making you wonder if all this talk about the holocaust and its tragedies hit close to him. As if he witnessed the horrors himself.

“You were there, weren’t you?” Sam found himself asking. “At the camp?”

“I was made in the ghetto of Vitsyebsk to tear that hell down. I broke its wall, its men.” The golem said, turning around to face the four of you before he went on. “The commandant burt the place to ash around me.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “what does it mean when you tell Aaron to take charge?”

“The boy would know…” The golem said. His gaze fell to the young man sitting in front of him, a hardened expression fell over his face. “if he could consult the pages.”

“Pages?” Dean found himself repeating after the giant. “What pages?”

Aaron swallowed slightly when he felt everyone’s attention shift towards him. “When I was as bar mitzvahed, my grandfather gave me this little old book. It was in Hebrew. It was like an owner’s manual for a golem.” Aaron explained to you and the boys about what the golem was talking about. You raised your brow slightly from what you were hearing, giving you a false sense of hope when you thought the tension between Aaron and the golem could be solved if he found this book. Aaron let out a sigh, knowing it wasn’t that easy. Because there was no book to be found. “I can’t….exactly. When I went to high school, I sort of drifted. I started getting off the academic track, and, uh, I kind of…I kind of smoked it.”

All of you did a lot of stupid things when you were in high school, but Aaron had to take the cake. You found yourself shaking your head slightly from what he admitted to. The golem wasn’t the least bit amused at the confession he heard. "The boy smoked the pages.”

“They were these thin, vellum-y pages. I mean, it was perfect for rolling. Look, they were driving instructions for a clay man. Okay? It was nonsense. Right? I mean…” Aaron tried to defend himself about the decisions and actions that he chose when he was in his teens. He chuckled nervously when he realized how bad it was when he said it out loud. “Okay. All right. Look, I’m sorry, okay? Why can’t you just tell me what I don’t know?!”

You made the rightful decision to get out of your chair to grab one of the pastries Dean brought back. You made it a few steps out of the way before the golem lurched forward, slamming his hands down on the table so he was now staring Aaron directly in the eye, finally having had enough of the boy’s childish behavior. "It’s not my place to guide the rabbi, to teach the teacher! It’s not my place! Yifalchunbee!”

“Gut! Beruhigen!*” You commanded to the golem when you found yourself becoming overwhelmed with frustration at the constant bickering between him and Aaron. All though you didn’t know Hebrew, you had a feeling the golem understood German as well. You gave the giant a look of your own when he turned his head towards you before he walked off. You scoffed to yourself and reached for a donut. “Ich werde dir ein oder zwei Dinge beibringen, du Lehmklumpen.*”

*All right! Calm down!

*I’ll teach you a thing or two, you lump of clay.

"That’s not super-comforting,” Dean said, his lips stretching into the smallest smile from what just went down. Aaron seemed a little shaken up himself, and guilty at what he couldn’t do. You tried lending out a helping hand much as you could, but your talents and expertise didn’t cover Hebrew. Or Jewish religion for that matter on how to control a golem Dean got himself up from his seat to join you at the counter, grabbing himself something sweet to pair with his coffee. “Did you happen to translate anything else that could be at least useful?”

“Kind of. As far as I can tell, these experiments—the thule were murdering jews, gypsies—just about anybody and everybody—then trying to magically reanimate them. They were trying to figure out a way to bring their own dead back to life. Which I’m guessing they figured out because—this.” You put your cup down on the counter and walked over to the table, grabbing the heavy book and flipping to the end. “This last page is a roster of every dead Thule member who was reanimated.”

"This is why they killed my grandfather?” Aaron asked, you shrugged your shoulders. This was much bigger than either one of you had realised. Not only was it almost like a scientific journal for necromancy and their experiments, it was a hitlist you could use to track down every thule member that might still be alive today. To them, it was worth all the blood they would have to spill in order to get it back into their rightful hands.

it would be worth the blood they would have to spill to get it back in their hands.

“Anything in there on how to kill it?” Dean wondered.

“Apparently they experimented with that, too. Headshot.” You said. The bit of information was going to be useful if you ever went up against one of these people, it wasn’t going to put them down for good. “But if you don’t burn the body within twelve hours, it reanimates again.”

“Nazi bastards.” The older Winchester muttered underneath his breath, finding all of what he was hearing about this society skin crawling.

You didn’t need another reason to take them down once and for all. Before you could take on an enemy big as a secret society, you needed to learn more about them. Along with the instructions on how to control a golem, and worst case scenario, how to stop it.

\+ + +

Sam spent some time trying to find out anything about golems while you stuck with the Thule society, hoping the internet could provide you with at least something to give you a clue of what they were besides evil at its worst. But it didn’t give you anything at all. You grew frustrated at the lack of findings you were getting, Dean decided to call around the hunters he knew and try his luck with Garth, who had trouble understanding what the man was saying.

"No, no, Garth, not a tool society—'Thule—T-h-u-l-e. Yeah. All right. Call me if you find anything.” Dean finished up his call with the hunter who had been looking over Kevin for you and playing Bobby as well. He dropped down the duffel bag full of weapons all of you would need soon enough once you knew more about this secret society. But it was risky when you didn’t know almost nothing about them, besides how they were evil bastards. “All of Garth’s contacts are stumped. Nobody on the circuit’s ever heard of ‘the Thule society.’ Whoever these people are, they’ve been flying beneath the hunter radar. Anything with you guys?”

You shook your head no at the lack of information you could provide, knowing if Garth didn’t know anything, you highly doubt you were going to be able to come up with anything. You rubbed your eyes in frustration when you felt a headache coming on, along with the urge to be sick. What you wouldn’t do right now to be back at the bunker where you had an extensive library and your disposal and the comfort of your own bed to relax.

“Nothing solid. I mean, the lore is all over the place.” Sam said. “According to one legend, it can be shut down if you erase the letters off its forehead.”

“I didn’t see any letters on clayface.” Dean said. He shrugged off his jacket and was now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, listening to the lore on the golem his brother had found. None of which sounded useful to you.

“Exactly. So, side-burner that. Another one,” Sam said, looking over at his laptop to reference the website he found on ancient lore dealing with golems that sounded useless. “'Some have a scroll in the mouth you’re supposed to rip out.’”

“Wouldn’t that give him some sort of lisps or something?” You wondered.

“Well, classically, they’re not even supposed to speak. We do know that he took on an entire camp full of heavily armed German soldiers and Thule necromancers and won.” Sam said. All you knew about the golem that he was one badass hummel figurine, in the words of Dean. “We have no idea how to put back in the box.”

"So that’s your plan?” Your attention drifted away from the younger Winchester and to Aaron, who overheard your conversation that he didn’t seem to taking a liking to. You would have never thought he cared for the giant from the way he constantly talked down to him and yelled every chance he got. “Taking out my golem?”

“It’s not a plan.” Sam tried to explain to the man.

“We would just feel a lot better if we knew how.” Dean said, making it sound simpler than what it really was “That’s all.”

“What makes you think you have any right to make that decision?” Aaron questioned you.

“Believe me,” Dean took a few steps forward to the man and told him how things were going to be, whether he liked it or not. "if we need the right, we will take it.“

"Look, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s my responsibility.” Aaron said.

“No offense, but you sort of suck at taking care of him.” You couldn’t help yourself but tell the truth that nobody was going to say to his face. “This thing is more powerful than you realize. The golem was built to go to war. You’re not trained for that. Now, how are you gonna take on that?”

Aaron fell silent at the reality he knew was very much true, but he wanted to prove himself wrong. He wanted to make his grandfather proud. Much as you hoped this situation would have worked out in his benefit in the end, all of you had unexpected company. You expected to face against the Thule society at some point, knowing you had something they very much wanted and were actively searching for. But you didn’t think it would be so soon in the future, and right now. 

You felt yourself jump a few inches out of your chair at the sudden sounding of the front door swinging open after someone broke it down, and you had a clue of who it might be. Without even thinking, you quickly grabbed the red ledger and dashed for a place to hide it, choosing underneath Sam’s messenger bag, giving you enough time before trouble came running in. 

Dean pushed Aaron out of the way when he saw what could only be three men belonging to the Thule society come running in. He reach for a shotgun, but before he could use it, one of the men beat him to it, ripping it out of his hands and punching him hard enough to knock him down to the ground. Sam attempted to take on one of the men coming his way, but it was no use. You saw a gun peeking out of Sam’s bag, and while you would have grabbed it, you found yourself stumbling upwards before you could even reach for it, a hand grabbing a fistful of your shirt and yanking you back up to your feet. 

You found yourself starting down the barrel of a gun, prompting you to temporarily forget about your own if you didn’t want to end up with a round to the head. While things seemed grim for all of you, there was someone that you almost forgot about, a giant who had taken on the Thule before. The golem came in charging into the room, growling in anger at what was going on. He flipped over a coffee table that stood in his way, making as if it weighed nothing when it went crashing into the wall before he set his eyes on the man holding a gun to Aaron. He grabbed the man from behind and lifted him up from his feet, choking him the process, but before he could do anything to harm the man, a voice called out for him to stop.

“Enough!” The man spoke with a German accent, making it clear enough they were all apart of the Thule society and looking for their fancy book. And it came as no surprise the stranger standing in the doorway was familiar with the golem after their encounter decades ago. “There you are, you clay piece of work, after all these years.“

The golem dropped the man he was holding down to the ground and turned his attention to the stranger standing in the doorway, known as Eckhart. You saw the golem start to step a few steps forward to Eckhart, wanting to take him down first, but it seemed the giant was no threat at what he did next. You heard what had to be Hebrew come from the man’s mouth as he lifted his arm to the golem coming in his direction, and in the matter of seconds, the golem stopped. He became frozen like a statue as his shoulders slumped forward.

Eckhart walked past the giant, lightly patting him on the shoulder before he made his way in the living room to face the four of you. You let out a quiet sigh when you saw the one last hope you had against the Thule become useless. "Verdammt noch mal.*”

*Damn it.

\+ + +

You didn’t have much of a choice other than to do what the enemy wanted, unless you preferred the other option they thought was going to come after obtaining what they were here for in the first place. You kept your hands up in the air and slowly sat yourself down on the floor while Sam was dragged a foot away so he was leaning against the wall before sliding himself down on the ground. The attention was taken off you for a moment, giving you a small window of opportunity to try and do something, but you feared it was a little stupid to take on three men at once. So you waited for your next chance to take these sons of bitches down before they could do anything stupid that might get all of you hurt.

You and Sam spent over an hour trying to figure out how to control the golem to help Aaron out in controlling him. But there was too much lore out there to figure it out. Erasing non existent words off his forehead was just a myth, and you had your doubts on the scroll lore. It seemed that one was true from what you witnessed. You just needed to know what to say in order to get the golem to do what you wanted. And Eckhart knew exactly how to.

“I command you by the covenant of your makers—clay of Adam, surrender your bond unto me.” A scroll, no bigger than the size of his pinky, fell out of the golem’s mouth and into Eckhart’s palm. He took it upon himself to untie the little white thread around the scroll. The man who had been standing next to Aaron grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him forward. Eckhart examined it for a moment before he chuckled to himself at the foolish mistake the younger man had made. “So you are the golem’s rabbi? You woke him…but you didn’t take possession of him. You write your name on the scroll, boy. That’s how you…yifalchunbee.”

Aaron nervously swallowed at the pediment he was in, unsure of what the right thing to do was that didn’t end up with him dead. "I didn’t know what he meant.”

"Knowledge is power, right?” Eckhart said. He thought the smart thing to do was to backhand Aaron right across the cheek, making the man stumble to the ground. You felt yourself slowly becoming overwhelmed with anger at what was going on. While Eckhart decided to take a seat and make himself comfortable, he nodded his head for one of his men to start searching through the place to find his precious book. “Now, which of you is going to tell me where I can find the a certain red ledger?”

“How about you go screw yourself, you Nazi bastard.” Sam decided to lend the man a nice little insult, knowing there was no way he was going to let them back it back so easily.

“Can we…” Eckhart frowned slightly at the title he didn’t like hearing after the name had lost its meaning and purpose after so many decades. He slipped off his leather gloves and put them into his pocket for safekeeping, you noticed he was wearing a ring on his left hand. If you had to guess, it was apart of the Thule society. “Could we put the Nazi thing aside for the moment and just talk about this like—”

“Nazi necromancer dicks? Pass.” Dean said, the man chuckled quietly at the insult.

“So I take it you’re the commandant?” You asked. From your tone of voice and glare alone, it was clear to see you didn’t think very highly of the man you read about in the red ledger he was trying so hard to look for. “The one that authorized all those horrible experiments.”

"Invented.” Eckhart corrected you. He didn’t find your glare the least bit threatening when he smiled, almost making it seem like you were complimenting him.He didn’t find your glare or harsh words the least bit hurtful, for his ego was too big for anyone to shatter. You found yourself shaking your head in disgust when he smiled, almost making it out to seem like you were complimenting him. "Those experiments. Thank you.”

“Du bist nicht willkommen.*“ You replied, your lips stretching into a forced smile. While one of his goons was tearing the place apart to find their special book, you noticed the gun peeking out of Dean’s jacket that was conveniently not too far away from him. And not to mention the shotgun lying not too far from Aaron. If you distracted Eckhart long enough, maybe there was a chance all of you could get out here alive. "You sick bastard.”

*You’re not welcome.

“Ah. Du sprichst Deutsch?” Eckhart asked you, speaking in his native tongue. You nodded your head slowly, knowing it was the reason why you knew about his experiments in the first place. Dean took his opportunity to look at Aaron and point his attention to the shotgun not too far from where he was sitting on the ground. The man had his perfect opportunity to grab it, but it was Aaron’s nerves that made him shake his head no. "Funny. Someone who looks down upon us knows our language.”

*Ah. You speak German?

“The country isn’t a reflection for your disgusting way of thinking. And I always wanted to tell one of you to go ‘screw yourself’ in your native tongue. So, what your deal? I mean, you’re not… undead. What did you do?” You curiously asked him. “You cast a forever twenty-one spell on yourself? Like your little friend at the library?”

“His name was Torvald.” Eckhart said. “And you will suffer for that.”

“Sort of like how your friend did?” You taunted him, a smirk spreading across your lips.

You weren’t the least bit scared of his threat, knowing if his attempts were anything like his friends, it was going to end with him suffering. You found your head turning slightly to the side when you noticed one of the men discovered the red ledger hiding underneath the bag, a hiding spot that was the last minute place to think of on such short notice. You felt a curse word or two slip underneath your mouth when it was delivered to Eckhart, making things go in the wrong direction.

 

“You know, I got to say, spell or no spell, he broke easy, so…” Dean said, doing everything in his power to get under the Nazi’s skin.

 

Eckhart paid no attention to what the older Winchester said, his focus kept on the book that he had searched high and low for. He flipped through a few pages to make sure it was the exact one he lost. “I’m sorry. So…Let me tell you what I see. A magic Jew at my feet, not a master in sight, and, finally, our secrets secret once again. Which reminds me of a story.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance from how he was still talking. He pushed himself out of his chair to stand up for a moment. “‘A Jew, two gentiles, a lady and a Golem walk into a bar’—and it doesn’t end with them coming out.”

It seemed he gotten the story mixed up where it ended with all the Nazi necromancers dead by three hunters and a rabbi. You made your move when Aaron grabbed one of the legs from the table the golem had broke, taking Eckhart by surprise and knocking him on the back of the head. You went diving for the gun while Sam fought off the one after he saw what you were doing. Before the Nazi could pull the trigger, you pointed the loaded weapon at him, shooting him straight between the eyes to put him down.

Dean seemed to have gotten the same idea as you when he reached for his own gun and shot at the other Nazi. Both of the men dropped to the ground, leaving Eckhart all by his lonesome when the other one of his goons attempted to grab Aaron and run, but got cold feet at the sight of two loaded weapons pointing at him. You might have let him run off, you knew well enough his days were numbered. You moved your gun to the last remaining Nazi and gave him another smirk, finding it amusing at how worked up he was getting, knowing the tables had turned on him.

“Fools!” He shouted. “You can kill me. But you will never kill all the Thule.” 

You weren’t the least bit threatened by his words, because they would be the last he’d ever speak. You shot off another round, putting a bullet in his head, watching as his body drop to the chair he previously had been occupying. While you knew he was right about not being able to take one down hate group today, you felt good wiping out the ones who messed with you, making the group smaller. Every little bit helped. While there is evil out in the world that takes on many forms, it was people like you that put them where they belonged, making everyone just a little safer for everyone.

\+ + +

Everything was once somewhat calm in the world again; a handful of Nazi necromancers were dead and rightfully burning in hell where the belonged. Aaron was finally understanding what he needed to do in order to live the legacy his grandfather told him about. All of you headed back into the very trashed motel Aaron had been renting for the meantime, the golem continued to stand where it was since you left him a few hours ago to finish up loose ends, waiting for the man to yifalchunbee. 

“Well, now we know—paper beats Golem, fire beats undead Nazi zombie freaks.” Dean said, his humor made a small smile and a chuckle escape your throat. A sense of relief came over you, along with accomplishment at what all of you did. You had a feeling Henry and your father would have been proud of all of you for what you did today. 

“So…What do you say, Aaron?” Sam asked the man, getting down to the giant in the room. Now the Nazis were out of the way, all of you had to worry about the golem that had reeked havoc on Aaron’s life. “I mean, we got a place we can keep him.”

“No. I mean… Eckhart might be dead, but you heard him. The Thule are still out there… hidden, active.” Aaron pulled out the small scroll from his pocket, unrolling it just enough to see his grandfather’s last name on the paper. Soon his own would join the legacy. “That’s my grandfather. He left me something important. Something only I can do.”

Aaron took a pen out from his pocket and wrote down his name on the paper before putting it back into the golem’s mouth like he should have done in the first place. You watched as the golem inhaled a deep breath, coming back to life as he straightened out his shoulders and looked at the man in front of him. “It looks like I’m the Judah Initiative now.”

The first word that came out of the golem’s mouth was the infamous yifalchunbee—take charge in Hebrew—that Aaron had grown to think was a bad thing. But when the golem said it this time, it was in respect, Aaron had done exactly what he needed to do. You felt a smile spread across your lips at how everything turned out. Maybe legacies weren’t such a bad thing after all. 

\+ + +

You and the boys were back at the bunker by the next morning, and after a hot shower followed by a long nap, you made your way to the library had grown to feel like it was the heart of this place. Somewhere you and the boys were going to be spending a lot of your time in. You made your way to the record player when Sam said he wouldn’t mind some music as background noise while he worked and put on a Louis Armstrong record, letting his voice echo through the bunker. Soon enough you joined him at the table, wondering what he had been working on and the things he discovered while doing his own search.

Dean found you and his brother talking among yourselves, you were leaning over the table with your elbow perched up and your palm cradling your head. A look of complete concentration was on your face while you listened to his brother going on about something. Sam had his head down, writing something on a pad of paper, every so often you glanced down to see what it was. Dean found the sight, with the old timey music playing in the background, almost picturesque. The sight gave off an ambience he couldn’t quite understand. It gave off…comfort. Content. Relaxed after a long day, happy to be home.

“What’re you and Y/N doing?” Dean curiously asked. His voice made you look over to see that it was him. You greeted him with a warm smile before directing your attention back to the younger Winchester.

“Ordering. I’m making a card entry for our copies from the Thule’s red ledger for our collection.” Sam explained to his brother what you and him had been doing. “And Y/N wanted to know how the filing system works, so I’ve been going through it with her.”

“It’s very riveting stuff.” You might have sounded sarcastic, but in all honesty, you were learning a lot about how the Men of Letters worked. “I mean, the things that found during the time of being active…I can’t wait to discover it all. See what else we can learn and add on.”

Dean grabbed two beers from the mini fridge, but he found himself feeling like it wasn’t right for this moment. He put them back when he remembered there was a scotch he discovered in the kitchen that was dated, but like most things, they got better with age. “So, uh, what? Aaron’s a J.I. and you’re a Man of Letters now, Sammy? And Y/N, possibly becoming the first Woman of Letters?”

“Hey, it’s the twenty first century.” You said. “Women can do anything men can.”

Dean chuckled to himself at your quick wit, knowing it was something he loved about you. He made his way over a small table to fix himself and two crystal glasses of scotch he’d been eager to try. Dean looked around the place for a moment to really look at the interior; taking in the endless books to hallways of rooms that he was still discovering. A few weeks ago he was a little hesitant about letting himself get used to the idea that this place could be good, because it wasn’t in his nature to settle down so easily, that something good might happen for him.

Dean had a thing about not letting himself get comfortable in just one spot. No home felt safe enough, no woman he loved felt like they would be able to really hold him for long and the insecurities that came with him. And his family slipped away from him too many times to count. Why get comfortable with something temporarily if it only was going to end in misery? Because not everything bad lasts forever. You taught him that.

Here Dean was at thirty-something, his baby brother with the love of his life sitting at one table, in a bunker that kept out everything they hunted. A wicked sweet pad that he had fell in love with and never wanted to leave. Dean grabbed three glasses and made his way over to the table to set two down, one for you and his brother, the other was for himself. You and Sam looked up to see him smiling down at the both of you. He mumbled a good—about the fact that you were warming up to the idea of starting something new in your lives. This wasn’t a new chapter, no. This was a brand new book. A new journey all of you were about to embark on.

Sam grabbed his own when his brother took a seat at the other table, giving him some room to kick up his feet and sit back. You found yourself reaching for your drink when you saw both of them about to take a sip. Before they could, you raise your glass in the air, wanting to be a bit cheesy. “To us—the Winchester and Y/L/N, the new generation of the Women and Men of Letters.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Dean said. You smiled to yourself as you put the glass back down on the table, silently adding to your toast about the future generation to come. The man also had something else to say that took you a bit by surprise. “Maybe in the future it’ll just change to the Winchesters.”

You knew well enough what the older man was trying to say. The both of you had talked about marriage once or twice, knowing it was something you wanted to do when things calmed down. Yet he hadn’t exactly popped the question just yet. Maybe he would in the near future. You weren’t in a rush, but you felt overcome with a sense of happiness at the fact he was still thinking about it.

You looked over at the man, your lips stretching into a bashful sort of smile when he winked at you. You had been with him for almost five years now and he still made your stomach fill with butterflies. You leaned back in your seat and stared at the two men in front of you, three words drifting into your mind that felt right to end with. Home sweet home.


	13. Trial and Error.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of violence, blood and angst.

You didn’t know the last time you went home, the place where you spent twenty years trying to make it something that it never really was, from a life that was long gone. You knew well enough this chapter of your life, living in Suburbia and with your only interaction with monster by researching them, was over. And you were okay with that. Before you let go for good you at least wanted to have a chance to have one last proper goodbye and scavenge through your belongings that were worth holding onto. You and Dean decided to head up and see what you wanted to take back and leave behind. The bunker was your home now. And did it feel good whenever you thought about it.

Most of the things you had an easy time of letting go was stuff like furniture you didn’t really care for in the first place and clothes that you had long forgotten about and other articles that weren’t in fashion anymore. You wanted to get to the important things like the few pictures that you had of your family, books that were too valuable to leave behind and a few other things you knew would be heartbroken to part with. Somehow you managed to convince Dean into lugging out two very heavy boxes of books that were part lore you bought for when your sole job was research, thinking it might go well with the Men of Letters library. Along with a few collectibles your bookworm heart couldn’t leave without.

You and him went through nearly all of your belongings, marking what was to be donated after you hired some movers to clear your things out and others that could be thrown out. Dean didn’t complain about how much you were making him work. He seemed to have enjoyed the normal task. For the few days you spent together with him there was a change you never really seen in him before. He came across more…relaxed. Happy.

The both of you also spent the time enjoying one another’s company the way you had felt newlyweds did. You were drunk on love and the future that you fooled yourself into believing for a while was going to end up fine. The two of you shamelessly said “I love you” more than you normally did. You shared long and romantic kisses that were split up between pecs here and there while you worked. The feeling was something that you never wanted to end, this positivity that felt refreshing.

Seeing Dean in such a good mood made you want to talk about the future of the family with him. About how it could turn into just the Winchesters if the both of you finally decided to tie the knot once and for all. And how it was going to grow from three people into four in the next handful of months. Right when the words were on the tip of your tongue…you pulled yourself back to the beginning. You didn’t want to sabotage this moment you knew you were never going to get again. So you decided to wait. Again.

While you were in town delaying the inevitable news and cleaning out your house that you were still debating about putting up for sale, you knew there was one face you hadn’t seen in person since coming back into your own state of mind. You had phone calls and video chats with Josh to keep in touch. But you hadn’t seen him in person since he and the boys worked together in rescuing you from Crowley and your demon side. Luckily she was long gone. Along with your old neighbors that were Josh’s grandparents who passed away a short while after he thought you did as well.

When you contacted Josh to tell him you were in the neighborhood, he didn’t waste a second heading over to see you again when he got a free moment. You knew you were going to be over the moon to see the familiar tall and lean figure when you answered the door after he knocked. The same rhythm like he used to when you were teenagers. Maybe it was your changing hormones or the happiness at seeing your best friend that made a few tears slip out.

The both of you embraced one another into a tight hug, squeezing him as if he was going to disappear again. Josh was different from the boys or any other friend you ever had. All though you were letting go from this part of your life, Josh had been dragged through this lifestyle without a choice, and he had been there for you through every step without hesitate

“Please tell me they’re happy tears. I don’t want to give the wrong impression. I mean, I would like to think Dean and I left on good terms.” Josh was trying his hardest to be funny so he could lighten up the mood. All though you swore you could hear a hint of seriousness in his voice when he looked around for the man after you invited him inside. “Where is that guy, anyway?“

"He’s upstairs packing up a few more things. We’re hitting the road tonight, but I wanted to see you before we went.” You said. You took a moment to see that your friend looked different from the last time you saw him from his new haircut to the clothes he wore. When you found yourself staring at him, you gave him another smile. “It’s good to see you, Josh. I’m sorry that it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other face to face.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I know your life has been upside down and sideways. The fact that you still want me around is all that matters to me.” Josh said. You gave him a bit of a funny expression, knowing there was nothing he did in the past that you hadn’t done yourself before. It was Josh’s turn to fall into a pause of silence when he got a good look at you to see how time treated you. “You look great, Y/N. Time off was the way to go.”

“Thank you. But, to be fair, the last time you really saw me was when I was beaten within an inch of my life and had blood all over me. Not to mention I was missing a few things.” You cracked a joke when you lifted your left arm and wiggled your ring finger. Josh noticed the faint surgical scar down your forearm as well, remembering you had also suffered a broken arm from that awful night. “I think anything from that is considered an improvement.”

Josh gave you a playful dirty look from how you easily dismissed his compliment. “I’m serious. Something’s different about you. But I can’t put my finger on it…”

“Well, since I never see you, I guess it’s better to tell you than for you to find out the hard way. Come here.” You dropped your voice to a whisper as you moved to the kitchen so you were away from the staircase, just in case Dean overheard your conversation you didn’t even have with him yet. Josh’s expression fell into nervousness from the way you were acting, making him wonder what you were about to tell him was bad news. “Relax. It’s nothing serious. Well, it is. But nobody’s dead. It’s sort of the reason why I’m moving and going back to Kansas.”

“What? Are you pregnant or something?” Josh’s guess was meant to be a joke, something he thought you would have brushed off with a scoff and an eye roll at his presumption. But that wasn’t the reaction he got. You stared at him with almost a stunned expression, as if he figured out what you were about tell him. The man found himself suddenly thrown through a loop. “Wait. I was kidding. I mean…Oh my God. You are, aren’t you? You’re really pregna—”

“Shut up!” You hissed at him, suddenly feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with anger at how loud he was being. You whacked him on his shoulder to get him to be quiet as you quickly looked over to the staircase. Dean was nowhere to be seen. You let out a sigh of relief and looked back at your friend. Josh was staring at you, the ends of his lips stretching into a smile, eagerly waiting for confirmation that he was right. You rolled your eyes, and slowly nodding your head. “Yes…I’m pregnant.”

You knew what you were doing, telling your secret to someone else that played a very important role in the process of how you got here, was very much wrong. But here you were again. Telling yet another person that wasn’t the father you were pregnant. The reason why you wanted to tell Josh was because you rarely got to see him. And you had a feeling the next time you might see him you would either be very much further along, or the baby would be learning how to walk. Josh seemed over the moon at what he was hearing, making you smile, the guilt weighing on your chest lifted itself for just a bit. 

“Let me take a look at you.” Josh said. You weren’t exactly showing just yet from how early you were still in your pregnancy, but there was a bump just big enough to make it seem like you were gaining a few extra pounds around your stomach area. “How far along are you?”

“About fourteen weeks.” You said. You rested a hand against your stomach and stared down at the little creature that was supposed to be no bigger than a lemon from the app you downloaded to keep track of your progress. A smile crept at the ends of your lips. “This thing was a bit of a surprise. But a very good one.“

“Aren’t all surprises good? Well…in your case, not always. All though there is such thing as karma. And it’s about time you and Dean had yours. I’m so happy for you.” Josh found himself rambling on slightly before he caught himself, making you chuckle quietly from how he could be. He couldn’t help himself when he embraced you into another tight hug, the both of you staying there for a moment, celebrating this announcement the way it should be. “I bet Dean is over the moon about being a dad.”

You felt your smile beginning to fade at the mention of something Josh had presumed, baby’s father right away. Maybe a little while after getting confirmation they were in fact carrying. But not you. You always had to make things more complicated than it should. "Yeah. About that…I may or may not have told him yet.”

“Wait, wait.” Josh chuckled to himself, thinking what came out of your mouth was very much a joke. But the now serious expression on your face told him you weren’t. You were very much telling the truth. “What? How—Why? Does anyone else know? Please don’t tell me I’m the first one you’re telling. It took me forever for Dean to like me.”

"Remember in ‘Friends’ where Rachel got pregnant and everyone found out except for Ross? Well, that’s kind of my situation. Everyone knows…except Dean.” You explained to him in the best way you could. But it only ended with Josh staring at you with even more of a bewildered look. “Okay. Here’s how it went…”

You told Josh about everything from the very beginning of how you found you were pregnant; it started with the morning sickness and other symptoms that felt out of place. Crowley calling you “Queen” when your nickname had always been Kitten that got the ball rolling on this entire situation. It was Cas who broke the news to you that you were in fact carrying, and Sam finding out after he grew suspicious of your odd behavior that you tried denying. Only coming clean soon after when he wanted to leave to go with Amelia. And while you had every chance to tell Dean about the fact he was going to be a father, you chickened out. Every. Single. Time. 

Everyone knew that you were pregnant, except for the father. Josh might not have known Dean all that well, but he knew enough that he loved you no matter what. If you were happy about becoming a mother, in time, Dean would grow to be excited. It was just the matter of telling him. 

“Hey, babe. Do you know where the tape—Oh. Hey, man.” Dean came downstairs without making a single sound, taking you by surprise. He spotted Josh and, for the first time you felt since meeting him, he greeted the man with a friendly smile and shook his hand. “Good to see you. Y/N told me you were gonna be here.”

“Yeah. I was in the neighborhood. Thought I would swing by.” Josh replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Y/N was telling me about what you guys have been up to. Sounds like you landed a pretty cool place to live in.” 

“Cool doesn’t even describe this place. You need to see it for yourself. I’m sure you and Sammy would geek over the library they have.” Dean said. You saw a smile spread across the older Winchester’s lips when he talked about the bunker, his entire face seemed to have lit up. You found the heavy duty tape he was looking for and handed it off to him. He gave you a smile and gave you yet another quick kiss on the lips, mumbling a thank you. "Hey, since you’re here, mind helping me bring a few boxes to the car?”

Josh was more than happy to agree. You watched as the both of them headed upstairs to get the remaining things that you were going to keep. You found yourself standing in the middle of the kitchen for a long minute, suddenly pondering on the fact that you were really moving on. No more house to have as a safety net. No more old life you had to hold onto. You let out a sigh, reaching for the locket that was once your mother’s that you wore every day. 

“I know you wanted me to stay here and have a normal life. I know you wanted me to be safe, too. And I will…just not here, Mom. There’s too many bad memories. But don’t worry. I found something better. We’ll be closer to Dad, too.“ You talked to the ghost that died here in this very house that haunted you for years at the hands of a demon who took away someone you loved. Who made your life hell. But he didn’t destroy it. You let out a sigh and pressed a hand against your small baby bump when you heard footsteps making their way down the stairs. "Let’s go, kiddo. To our new home.”

\+ + +

Dean had to be a little bit honest with himself, the idea of not sharing a room together with his girlfriend like a normal couple seemed like a bit of a downer. He liked falling asleep next to you with your body pressed against his, the reassurance of knowing you would be there tomorrow morning to greet him. And he liked the little things you did that he grown to think of little quirks. But he was starting to warm up to the idea of having a bedroom to call his own because it meant he it was his. 

He could decorate it however he wanted, rearrange the furniture to his liking. There was a space in this bunker where he could call his own. All of you were together under the same roof for the first time ever, and yet, you had your private space when you needed to be alone. Like a proper family. But you and Dean still bunked together every single night. Since being here for the past few weeks a little game came out of it. Stay in his room because it was closer and you fell asleep while watching movies. Dean sneaking into yours when you texted him early into the evening wanting some “alone time” after you were supposed to have retired to bed early. It wasn’t what Dean imagined, but this version was a lot more fun for him.

“Well, well. Look at this place.” 

Your voice came from behind, making Dean look over his shoulder to see you were standing in the doorway of his bedroom, taking a look at what he accomplished since last night when the both of you got back. You examined the array of weapons he used as decorations on the walls and other sort of things he must have went out and gotten himself. You stepped inside, going for his record collection that had been collecting dust in your basement years. A few of them looked brand new, which meant he must have went out and did himself a little shopping while you were unboxing everything you had brought back.

Dean was almost done decorating his room, there was just one more thing he needed to do to make it feel perfect. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket of his jeans to take out a small piece of paper that fit perfectly inside. You wondered for a moment what it was until you saw him place it underneath the desk lamp. It was a photograph of him when he was just four years old with his mother, Mary. One of the only pictures he had of his late mother he could cherish.

You felt your lips stretch into a small smile at the sight of Dean as a little boy, knowing you had almost no pictures of him in his childhood years. He was an adorable child that grew up to a handsome man. You felt your smile growing just a little bit bigger when you saw him place another picture down next to the one of him and Mary. It was the one of you and Dean that was taken right when the both of you just started dating. While you were pissed off when you saw the flash go off, there was no denying the love captured in the moment between the both of you.

“There. Now I will always have the two most important women in my life together.” Dean said. You knew seeing him take out and place one of his most prized possessions was a sign that he was officially comfortable settling down here. "What do you think? Not bad, huh?”

"I think…I like this side of you.” You admitted to him. You walked over to him and nestled yourself into the crook of his side, resting your head on his chest and looked at the pictures for a moment. Dean draped an arm around your waist to push your body closer to his. “I would have never pegged you as the domestic and homey type. You know, it’s kind of a sexy look on you.”

“Really, now? Well I’m about to become irresistible. You can watch me make some lunch. And who knows,” Dean wiggled his brow as he gave you a mischievous look you knew all too well. And what he meant by it. “Maybe we can have a little fun—”

Right before you and Dean could finish your little fantasy of spending more alone time together, the moment you were having at the moment was stopped when you heard someone clearing their throat loudly, announcing their presence. Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance as you looked over to see it was Sam who was leaning against the door frame with a slight smirk on his face, catching the both of you. Sam moved his gaze around the room to see the decorating his brother had done to the bedroom. He had to admit it looked pretty decent. And very much Dean.

“Wow.” Sam muttered, sounding rather impressed. “Not bad.”

“'Not bad’? I haven’t had my own room—ever. I’m making this awesome. I got my kick ass vinyl, I’ve got this killer mattress.” Dean took a personal offense at his little brother’s compliment that did little justice for the hard work he put in. He sat down on the edge on his bed, and the smile that broke out on his face made you chuckle at how adorable he was. “Memory foam—it remembers me. And it’s clean, too. There’s no funky smells. There’s no creepy motel stains.”

Sam raised his brow slightly, half-listening to what his brother was going on about as he took a piece of gum out from his jacket pocket and popped it in is mouth. He tried tossing the small crumpled up foil wrapper into the trash that was across the room, but he missed, hitting the rim and watched as it fell to the ground. He shrugged it off, presuming his brother wouldn’t notice. But Dean did. And the pissed off look on his face made it clear he wasn’t too happy.

“Samuel. You heard what your brother said. This room is clean. Pick it up.” You pretended to sound like a strict mother, pointing to the small crumbled up wrapper on the ground. Sam threw his hands up in defeat and walked to the garbage to properly clean up after himself. “Not like it’s gonna stay like this for very long.”

Dean gave the both of you an annoyed look from how your sarcasm caused his brother to smile ever so slightly in amusement. “I’m gonna go make some grub.”

You followed behind the man a second later, leaving Sam alone to inspect his brother’s room with a little more detail. There was all sorts of weapons decorated on the walls that somehow seemed to complement the fifties style furniture that was left behind in the bunker. His brother wasn’t the type of person who knew how to settle down and make himself comfortable, but he was always a fast adapter. Sam looked down at the desk, spotting a manual typewriter and dusty office supplies, along with a wallet size photograph of their mother. A smile crept on the ends of his lips when he noticed the photo was accompanied by a picture he’d taken himself, that was followed by an earful from the happy looking couple.

It might not be a traditional home with a backyard for a child to run around in, there wasn’t even windows to look at their surroundings, but it was better than anything he could want. It was perfect to settle down to raise the future Winchester/Y/L/N generation that would be here in the matter of months. It was safe and a perfect hideout for hunters to rest their heads. And most importantly, it was yours.

\+ + +

One of the things you instantly feel in love with about the bunker was the extensive library you and Sam still had to explore more of to see what the Men of Letters had on lore. You had many more books to find a place for after you cleaned out your house with no intention of going back. There was a few boxes already occupying one of the tables that awaited your sorting and another one in your bedroom that you decided to keep for decoration. Your focus was occupied by one of the books that Sam pulled from the shelf to read over. And that’s how Dean found you, the both of you with a nose in your book, too engrossed to hear him coming with lunch like he promised not too long ago.

You found yourself breaking your concentration when you inhaled a breath, catching a whiff of something that made your stomach feel queasy. Your nose scrunched up when you recognized the smell as to be hamburger along with cheese. All though the smell bothered you before when you found out you were pregnant, suddenly it felt worse than ever, to the point where you had to stop yourself from telling Dean to get the plate away from you after he set it down in front of you.

“What are you guys reading?” Dean asked, setting down his brother’s plate right next to him.

“Sort of everything.” Sam said.

“Good. Somebody’s gonna have to dig through all of this, and it ain’t gonna be me.” Dean said, smiling at the lack of help he was willing to provide and took a seat at the next table to dig into the meal he made.

Sam pushed aside the book to start eating the food his brother made that looked good. And too appetizing to be frozen or fast food. He lifted up the bun to inspect the craftsmanship and how good it smelled to him. “You made these?”

“We have a real kitchen now.” Dean said.

“I know. I just didn’t think you knew what a kitchen was.” Sam replied. “And, you know, Y/N didn’t help you from burning the place down.”

“I’m nesting. Eat.” Dean told his brother, not wanting to hear another word from the man until he got a taste of the food. Sam decided to see if it was good as it smelled. He grabbed the burger and took one bite, his brother intently watching him to see his reaction while your face grimaced slightly from how he could eat something that smelled God awful to you. Sam muttered a happy reaction from a mouth full of food. Dean broke out into a victorious smirk. “You’re welcome.”

You were happy to see the boys were enjoying their first cooked meal in the bunker, but it was taking everything in you not to tell them to stop. You tried to gain the willpower to at least take a bite of the burger, but if you did, you feared you’d get sick. So to compromise with yourself you grabbed the bun and ripped off a piece to eat. “Why aren’t you eating, Y/N? Is there something wrong with it?”

You flinched when you heard the sound of Dean, obviously catching you pushing away the plate and the uncomfortable look on your face. You looked up at him to see that he was a little concerned as to why you weren’t eating. You opened your mouth slightly, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights, knowing there was only two outcomes that tell him why you weren’t eating. Either tell him the truth. Or simply say you weren’t hungry at the moment But that wasn’t the case from what came tumbling out of your mouth to try and cover your tracks.

“I’m a vegetarian.” You blurted out, catching both of the boys by surprise at what you came up with. Dean set down his food, seeming a little taken back at your change of diet that seemed out of the blue. Sam looked at you a bit funny, and the expression only grew more when you dragged him into this. “Yeah. I decided I don’t want to eat anymore dead animals. It’s inhumane. Sam told me about this documentary he wanted to see. Well, I watched it, and now…even the smell of meat makes me sick. I just can’t do it anymore.”

What you said wasn’t an exact lie, the smell really did make you feel sick. Just for the wrong reasons. You watched as Sam gave you a look from how you dragged him into this while his brother processed the fact that you changed your eating habits once again.

“You don’t drink anymore, you barely have coffee. And now you’re not eating meat? If I didn’t know any better,” Dean said, only to momentarily take a pause that made your heart stop in your chest, fearing the next set of words that were to come out his mouth was the truth you’d been keeping from him. “I would think you’ve been hanging around Sammy too much.”

"Sure. Let’s go with that. While you boys enjoy your burgers,” You grabbed the book you’ve been reading and began making your way to the kitchen to find something for yourself. “I’m gonna go eat something that doesn’t make me want to vomit.”

You made it halfway across the library until you found yourself stopping in your tracks, curious as to who was calling Dean when you heard his phone go off. He rolled his eyes in annoyance when the person was calling him right before he could enjoy his food. The caller was Kevin after Dean spoke the prophet’s name a few times after him grow silent after only speaking a few suspicious words. A cautious look settled on your face as you pressed the book against your chest. Kevin almost never called you unless it was something important. The annoyed look on Dean’s face was clear enough for him to think that it had Crowley’s name written all over it.

Dean grabbed his plate and began making his way back to his bedroom, knowing he could eat his food while out on the road. Sam got out of his seat and followed behind his brother, but he couldn’t quite part with his food, grabbing the burger to snack on while he got ready. Knowing that you would be making a trip to Garth’s boat house, a sudden craving hit you out of nowhere, the burger reminding you of some fast food you had while around town. When you got cravings, even the oddest ones you ate in secrecy, it wouldn’t leave you until the baby got what it wanted.

“Hey, on the way to Kevin, do you think it’s possible we could make a pit stop? There’s this diner that has the best fries. Oh. And what about a milkshake? That sounds really good…” You found yourself mentioning something that sounded a bit insensitive to the situation you were dealing with right now. Kevin was in possible trouble, and you wanted to stop for a snack. You smiled slightly, trying to backtrack. “I meant…on the way back. Obviously.”

Dean gave you a look, wondering what was going on with you. You brushed past him and made your way to your bedroom to get what you needed, hoping he’d forget about the conversation all together. The same way you hoped you could forget about your cravings, and not get sick during the ride to Kevin from the smell of the burgers that somehow was lingering around the bunker. It was gonna be a rough six and a half more months until this baby came.

\+ + +

Dealing with any kind of progress of prophets, tablets and closing the gates of hell had been silent for months now. There seemed to be no kind of improvement from the last time Dean checked up on the kid to make sure he was still breathing. Your mind went to the worst case scenario when Kevin called out of the blue. Either he worked himself to death, or Crowley was eager to get the other half of the tablet. The son of a bitch had been awfully quiet since the last time you saw him, it wouldn’t surprise you if he had been spending that time working up a plan.

You and the boys approached Garth’s boat house with caution, all though it seemed quiet like the last time you’d been here, you always had to presume the worst. Dean headed in first with his brother following right behind. You lingered in the back as usual, holding the demon knife as a precaution. All of you checked the boat to make sure the place was clear of any threats, and while it was, you still had yet to find the person who called you in the first place.

It was Dean who had the fortunate task of finding the kid, face down in the toilet, throwing up whatever he had this morning. You peaked in slightly to make sure that he was somewhat all right. You grimaced at the sight of Kevin with his face in the toilet bowl, knowing that position a little too well over the past several weeks. He might be a little sick and looking awful from the last time you saw him, but he was alive. And had some very exciting news to share. You were more concerned about his well being than the reason why you were here in the first place.

“Wow. You look like hammered crap.” Dean wasn’t sugar coating it for the kid. Kevin agreed that his appearance was a little more dishshelved than normal while he took care of a bloody nose.

“Are you sleeping?” You asked the younger man. Kevin shrugged, replying that he really wasn’t. Your face dropped into a slightly annoyed look from the lack of care he was willing to put in on himself. His mother might not be here to scold him, but you were willing to give him an earful on what he should be doing. “Are you at least eating?”

“Hot dogs, mostly.” Kevin said.

“Sure, yeah—breakfast of champions. Look, I’m gonna feel dirty saying this,” Dean decided to give the kid some advice that normally would never pass his lips. But he felt it was necessary before he put himself into an early grave. “but you might want a salad and a shower.”

“I know, and I’ve been getting bad headaches and nosebleeds, and I think I maybe I had a small stroke. But it was worth it.” Kevin said. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering what was so important that he nearly caused himself bodily harm on his health. You were ready to tell him to slow things down and take some time for himself, but the words seem to fall flat when he told you the news he’d been wanting to tell you. Kevin got up from his seat, smiling as he pointed to the half of his tablet that he’d been studying for weeks. and spoke the words that you had only dreamed about hearing. “I figured out how to close the gates of hell.”

You felt your lips stretching into a wide smile, the kind where it started to hurt your cheeks after only a few moments, but the pain was well worth after hearing the news come from the man. It felt like it was all too good to be true. Dean couldn’t help himself but celebrate the exciting news by going over to the prophet and giving him a tight hug, even lifting the kid a few inches off the ground. He momentarily regretted the decision, getting a whiff of the kid’s body odor.

“Okay, okay. So, what does this mean?” Sam asked, getting all of you to focus and not celebrate just yet before you could find out what all of you needed to do. This was only the beginning of accomplishing your goal. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s a spell.” Kevin explained to all of you. You raised your brow slightly from what he meant by that, following him to his wall full of notes and research he gathered over the past few months he’d been working on translating the tablet. “And it’s just a few words of Enochian, but the spell has to be spoken after you finish each of the three trials.”

“Trials, like ‘Law and Order’?” Sam wondered if that was what the kid meant. He grabbed the index card from his brother to see what the spell was that needed to be said in order to complete this supposed spell.

“More like Hercules. The tablet says, 'Whosoever chooses to undertake these tasks should fear not danger, nor death, nor…’ a word I think means getting your spine ripped out through your mouth for all eternity.“ Kevin said. Well, it wasn’t exactly glamorous as one might expect, but you had dealt with your fair share of torture through the years. "Basically, God built a series of tests, and when you’ve done all three, you can slam the gates of hell.”

“So, what,” You sarcastically asked. “God wants us to take the SATs?”

“I guess.” Kevin said. “He works in mysterious ways.”

"Yeah, mysterious, douchey ways.” Dean remarked before getting down to business. “All right. Where do we start?“

"I’ve only been able to crack one of the tests so far, and it’s gross.” Kevin said. You were prepared to do just about anything to get started on this project you heard about since you got back. But even for you, what you were about to hear made your stomach churn. “You’ve got to kill a hound of hell and bathe in its blood.”

“Awesome.” Dean didn’t seem to have a problem with the task head on. Hell, it seemed like he was willing to do it right now if he had the chance. You found yourself looking at him with a slightly confused expression for his eagerness, and why he thought it was him who was going to do the trials. “Hey, if this means icing all demons, I got no problem gutting some devil dog and letting calgon take me away.”

“Where are you gonna find one?” Kevin asked.

“Well, hell hounds like to collect on crossroads deals. So all we got to do is track down some loser who signed over his special sauce ten years ago, get between him and Clifford the big dead dog—easy.” Dean said. His confidence about completing a dangerous task overshadowed the enemy he was going up against. You had faced a few hell hounds in your time, and most of them ended with someone getting torn to bits.

“Doesn’t sound easy.” Kevin said. Sam mentioned that it wasn’t going to be, but his older brother didn’t seem to want to hear anything negative or realistic about the challenge he thought it was him who was going to go up against.

“Look, you get on the net—see what you can dig up. I’m gonna go for a supply run because we need goofer dust, and the kid needs to eat something that’s not ground-up hooves and pigs’ anuses—not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Dean said. You scoffed quietly from the man’s food palate that made you grimace at the thought of even going even anywhere near that kind of meat. You were having his baby, and for some reason, it was rejecting the things he loved. Of course…you were still craving that greasy food and sugar fix.

\+ + +

There was nothing a good change of clothes and a shower could fix. You and Sam worked on finding a possible lead while Kevin gave himself much deserved R and R, coming back looking a little more alive and smelling a hell of a lot better. While you were happy that he was feeling a lot better, there was still the talk you wanted to have with him about taking things slower. Maybe it was because you wanted to see him survive all of this and not end up dead. Maybe it was because his mother wasn’t here to talk to him and set the kid straight. Whatever it was, you knew that he couldn’t keep going on like this for much longer.

“Hey, Kevin, buddy, you got to slow down.” You approached the topic when you saw him reach for his cup that you knew for sure had to be filled with coffee, the helper to all hard working people that didn’t like to sleep. Kevin found himself staring at you with a confused expression, wondering what you meant. “Get some shut-eye. Take a day off. Open a window.”

“No.” Kevin’s response wasn’t what you or Sam expected. You furrowed your brow from the way he was acting. “You said nuking hell—that’s how I get out. That’s how I go home.”

“Right, it is,” Sam agreed with the younger man on that point. “but you can’t live like this.”

“You think I want to? I hate it here. I can’t leave because every demon on the planet wants to peel my face off. I can’t talk to anyone expect you guys or Garth, when he swings by, or my mom. Right? And when she calls, all she does is cry.” Kevin couldn’t help himself but air out all the challenges and circumstances he had to adapt to since becoming a prophet. You and the younger Winchester gave him an understanding look, knowing it had to be tough. “I just…I need this to be over.”

“We know. We do. You have no idea how much I want all of this to be done. But trust us on this—this whole 'saving the world’ thing—it’s a marathon, not a sprint.” You told the younger man about how much more tougher than it was. You’ve dealt with this once before, and it wasn’t going to be solved in one day. This was just the beginning of your problem solving. “You got to take better care of yourself.”

You could only hope Kevin would take your words to heart and slow himself down a little bit before someone else were to take his place. Your attention lingered away from the kid when you heard the door open, revealing Dean with a bag of groceries in one hand for Kevin, and your food that you were craving before coming here in the other; an order of large fries with extra salt, along with a milkshake to give yourself a sweet and salty treat to satisfy the baby’s needs. You didn’t give the man a second to get very far before you fetched your food out of Dean’s hands, mumbling a thank you from how he remembered.

“Did you know that there are like, six thousand kinds of tomatoes?” Dean asked. You knew he wasn’t a frequent lurker in the produce departments at grocery stores, you entertained his question with a curious look while you dug into your food. “Did you guys find anything?”

“Yeah.” Sam said, turning his attention to his laptop to pull up the victim that was about to add a little more time to their deal. “Demon signs, ten years ago, all centered on Shoshone, Idaho.”

“Okay, well, big-time mojo means a big-time freak. So, anybody have a horseshoe shoved up his ass?” Dean asked the million dollar question.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Sam chuckled to himself. He turned the laptop around to show you and his brother the family that got lucky the most sinful way possible, selling their soul for greed. “Meet the Cassidys’, small-time farmers who struck oil on their land in February of ‘03. Which is weird because geological surveys—”

“Yeah, you had me at 'weird.’” Dean said. “All right. We thinking deal?”

“Best lead we got.” Sam said.

“Well, let’s go visit the Beverly Hillbillies. You stay here, work on step number two, and if you come across anything about hell hounds, drop a time, okay? 'Cause between the claws and the teeth and the whole invisibility thing, those bitches can be…real bitches.” Dean gave the prophet another task that might help all of you in the long run and not go stabbing in the dark for the hound. Before he forget, there was something that Dean also picked up from the store that might be helpful. He pulled out two bottles from the bag and gave them to Kevin. “ I got you a present. The blue ones are for headaches, and the green ones are for pep. Don’t O.D.”

Dean thought he was helping Kevin by giving him all sorts of pills that looked unsafe to be used in double dosage with one another. He had enough health problems as it is, and his brother was cautious to let the kid play around with medication. When Sam voiced his caution on the matter, Dean brushed it off as nothing, thinking it was time for all of you to push through the pain if you wanted this job done right. You weren’t exactly in agreement with what Dean said, but Kevin was a smart kid, you were sure he’d be able to mix the medication without overdosing.

\+ + +

Hell and demons were always a sore spot for you; from having your entire life ruined by one, to selling your soul to one…and, you know, being born as half one made you grow to detest the place and everything that crawled out of it. When you first heard about being able to lock away the evil that destroyed your life more than once, it felt like a dream come true—the kind that you thought was never going to be possibility that you were going to reach it. But here you were, knowing exactly what to do, and how to complete the first trial. All you needed to do was kill a hell hound and roll around in its blood, seemed simple enough. A little dangerous, but possible. And you had every intention of being a part of it.

“Are you kidding me? You can’t do this!”

There was someone who didn’t share the same confidence in you as you did, despite everything you accomplished while you were pregnant. You went up against vampires and demons, Nazi necromancers and someone who could shape reality to make it a cartoon world. A hell hound was just another monster you could handle. Sam didn’t think so.

You knew the way you were acting when Sam suggested for you to stay behind, yelling on the top of your lungs and following behind the boys like their shadow, was childish. Your anger only grew worse when Dean agreed without hesitance. You weren’t allowed to take part of the trials because you were considered a “safety hazard.” Aka, this was Sam’s way of keeping you on the side lines. The very thing that you had wanted to take part of—and he was benching you. Every logical part of your brain was telling you to agree. But you couldn’t.

“Yes, we can. It’s too risky for you tag along.” Dean said. You gave him a look of disbelief from how he was handling this situation and not defending you. Time and time again you proved yourself you were capable of handling a dangerous hunt, but ti seemed that Dean didn’t want to take a chance. “We’re not the ones who put a damper on Crowley’s plans to crack open Purgatory and killed that demon bitch he worked mighty hard to get out. I’m sure he’s got every demon and hell hound looking for you already.”

“And he doesn’t want to see you two dead?” You questioned him. “Crowley hates you much as he hates me. Hell, probably even more from the crap you two pulled while I was gone.”

“You could get hurt.” Sam reminded you about the danger you would be putting yourself in if you decided to come along. You threw daggers at what he was saying, knowing it translated that the baby could be put in danger, too. Like you didn’t know that. “Besides, we need someone to hold down the fort when we’re gone.”

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, letting out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not fair.”

"Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” Dean said, trying to make you understand. You gave the man a dirty glare from his words that wasn’t helping your bad mood. “Sam’s right. It’s too dangerous for you to be out there. I wish things were different, but this is how it’s gotta be.”

You turned your head to the side when you saw Dean lean forward to give you a kiss goodbye, presuming your bad mood was a sign of defeat. He let out a sigh, choosing not to leave himself hanging, he gave you a quick peck on the forehead before he made his way out. Sam watched as his brother began heading up the staircase and to the front door with the supplies they would need for the trip, he lingered behind for a moment. You slowly looked over at the younger man, and the dead serious expression on his face.

"Y/N, look,” Sam spoke up first, wanting to clear the air and set things straight before you could twist his motives into a whole other reason. “I’m not doing this because I don’t think you can’t handle yourself. I’m doing it for—”

“Let’s get one clear, Sam. I’m pregnant. It does not translate into me suddenly being helpless..” You told the man, cutting him off before he could speak another word. "I would understand your concern if I was ready to pop or something like that. But I’m barely even showing yet. I don’t see why I can’t even tag along to help.”

“Because, it’s dangerous.” Sam reminded you, his voice growing harder. “I can’t risk it.”

“I can still fight.” You shot back at him. “Hell, I’ve saved your ass once or twice along the way.”

“That’s not the point, Y/N!” The younger Winchester found himself accidentally snapping back at you from your way of thinking. “This isn’t proving yourself that you’re still capable of being a good hunter. This is about keeping you and the baby safe.”

“And you know how i’m gonna do it? Making sure we close the gates of hell properly.” You said. Sam rolled his eyes in frustration from how you weren’t letting yourself seethe consequences if you were to hep take part in this hunt. You were too focused on running to the finish line. “Besides, you’ve never had a hell hound on your ass before. You don’t know what to look for.”

"True, but I kinda got a pretty good clue after the first time. I saw you and Dean go through it all those years ago. And I really don’t want to have to see it again. You know going up against one is more than just a suicide mission on yourself.” Sam said. He didn’t want to put this image in your head, even thinking about it made a sense of dread rush over him, but he knew it would be a possibility if you went along. He had to instill some kind of fear in you. “What if you went up against one and it went for your stomach? Do you want Dean to find out that you were carrying his kid like that?”

You felt yourself taken back at how brutal he was being right now, planting a thought in your head that made you subconsciously rest a hand on your small bump, as if you were trying to protect the baby from that outcome. "That’s not gonna—”

“We don’t know that, Y/N. And I don’t want to have to think that might be a possibility. I want this kid to be safe much as you. Hell, I’d do it right now if it meant you were okay. But that’s not gonna happen if you tag along.” Sam said, trying to make it clear as day that you were a safety hazard he didn’t want to keep an eye out for. And he’d do anything to make sure you wouldn’t get involved. “I’m warning you now, Y/N. You try to go anywhere near this…”

“What are you gonna do?” You asked him, almost in a taunting tone of voice. “You gonna lock me up?”

"No. I’ll leave that to Dean. After I tell him you’re pregnant with his kid.” Sam replied calmly. Your face dropped in shock at the sudden willingness to tell a secret you’ve been wanting to hide for a while now. “I’m sure he’ll get real creative.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You whispered, hoping you could somehow call his bluff on his subtle threat. Sam shrugged his shoulders, proving from the look on his face that he was ready to do just about anything. Even if it meant stepping over his boundaries and the trust you put in him for the sake of being the winner in this argument. “You’re such a bastard. I swear, you breathe a word of this to him—and I’ll hate you. Hell, I’d probably never forgive you.”

“You know what? I don’t really care, Y/N. I’d rather have you hate me for the rest of my life than end up dead.” Sam said. You scoffed from his response and looked away from him, already starting on your plan to beat him to Iowa. Sam was one step ahead of you when he pulled your car keys out from his pocket, the only thing that he thought you had access to the outside world. “There should be enough food to last you a while. Read. Watch some Netflix. Nest. Do whatever pregnant women do. We’ll be back in a few days. If you need something, call Garth.”

You watched as Sam grabbed the duffel bag he would need for the trip and the keys to your car that was parked out front of the bunker next to the Impala. He thought you were honestly going to listen him. And maybe he was right about something. It was a suicide mission if you went up against a hell hound. There was a chance you might get hurt, or worse, die in the process of closing the gates of hell. Which meant everything that you got—the bunker, falling pregnant with your first and only child, getting married to the man you loved…could be gone. Just like that.

But there was a part of you, much bigger than the logical side telling you to stay out, that was urging to you to take part of the trials. To do right of everything that you did wrong. You might be human, but there was still so much that you felt was your responsibility to fix. It was those stupid little “What if I did this instead…” that was suddenly running through your mind. For a moment you wondered if doing the trials could be your saving grace. A chance to wash the slate clean for everything you did wrong. There was no way you were going to pass up this chance.

A few minutes after the boys headed off, you were packing a bag and making a few phone calls, all while searching for keys to one of the cars you found in the bunker’s garage. You knew one thing for sure, if anyone was going to do the trials, it was going to be you.

\+ + +

When it came to end of the world situations like dealing with the apocalypse or stopping another severe set of problems like trying to stop an angel and a king of hell from opening a door to purgatory—just to name a few—you and the boys always worked together as a team. And that’s how all of you thought it was going to be when you got to this point of closing the gates of hell for good. Life got caught up in the way and unexpected events came up, making it fall on the shoulders of the boys to make sure everything went according to plan.

Sam would admit that he wanted you here to help and make sure all didn’t go to crap. But it didn’t take a genius to know that it would be a suicide mission if you were lurking around here with a hell hound on the prowl. You wanted hell locked up for good like the brothers. And you’d do anything to make sure that it all went well, even if it meant you had to sit on the sidelines for this one. Not only for the safety of yourself, but for the next generation. So your history of pain and misery wouldn’t repeat itself all over again.

It was late into the morning when the Impala pulled up to a pair of iron gates that secluded off several acres of land, the property called “Cassity Farms” from the bold gold laters on the front. The security guard at the front waved them on after Dean made up some lie to get them access. For a bunch of rich people, they weren’t too smart just letting a bunch of strangers on their land. It was clear from the over the top mansion and pristine farm land one of the Cassity’s knew how to spend their money. And thanks to the boys, they were going to be table to enjoy it just a little while longer before another hound ripped them to shreds.

“All right, keep an eye out. We’re one short set of eyes. So we need to be sharp.” Dean said. He parked the Impala so he could set up a plan for himself and Sam to follow so things on this trial would go smoothly. “Anybody with a hell hound on their ass is gonna be showing signs—hallucinating, freaking out—the usual.”

"And if we find someone?” Sam asked, wanting to know who was gonna be the lucky bastard to take on a hound and take a bath in the beast’s blood.

“You get ‘em clear. I spike Fido. The crowd goes wild.” Dean was the one who volunteered to do the dirty job before his brother could even get a single word out, flashing the demon knife that had been resting on the front seat. He tucked it safely into the inside of his pocket and got out, Sam following right behind. The both of them approached the tractor they parked not too far from and saw a pair of legs sticking out, working on the engine from the sounds of it. “Hey, pal, who runs this joint?”

The boys presumed the person underneath the hood was some worker tinkering with the engine was of the same gender. But when they saw the bottom half of the body roll forward and push themselves into a standing position, a young pretty woman greeted them. A smirk on her lips at how easy it was to assume things like this. “You’re looking at her.”

“You…” Sam trailed off for a second, not expecting to see someone like her from the picture he saw of the Cassity’s online. “Own the property?”

“Nope, just manage the property.” She said. “You guys here about the job?”

Dean smiled slightly, thinking this was gonna be a lot easier than he planned on getting close to the Cassity family. “How’d you know?”

“We get our share of drifters.” The woman said. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a moment to look at the oldest Winchester up and down, as if she was inspecting him to see if he was right for the job. “You ever work on a farm before?”

“Definitely.” Dean said, continuing to play right along with the little white lie. She didn’t seem to buy into it from the look that crossed her face, to her, the boys didn’t seem much like the type who got their hands dirty in a setting like this.

“We’re quick learners.” Sam added on to make the both of them sound right for the job.

The woman nodded her head slightly and remained silent for a few more seconds, as if she was still contemplating on giving two strangers the job position. Before she could make the executive decision on seeking a higher opinion, a man’s voice called out her name, grabbing her and Sam’s attention. The younger man noticed a well dressed man approaching them, along with someone else walking in sync. Sam narrowed his eyes slightly, not being able to quite get a good look at the person from how their head was turned, observing the property. But there was something about them that looked so…familiar.

Sam could tell it was a woman from her features and body structure. Her clothing was nice, but not expensive enough to even try and rub elbows with the crowd the Cassity family ran with. He noticed a manual camera resting against her chest while the strap hung over her neck, drawing his attention to the necklace she wore. It was a heart-shaped locket from the looks if it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary from that. He only knew why he’d seen the face before when she made the mistake of tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear, making him catch sight of a one of a kind pair of earrings. The kind he gave to someone on Christmas years back.

The younger Winchester could feel his blood beginning to boil when he realized who he had been staring at this whole time, It was someone who he left behind in Kansas. Who threatened to expose their shared secret if she dare so tried to come along. Sam knew you could be reckless and stupid at times, but this…it was taking every single ounce of control for him not to grab you and yell at you for being here. But if he did act out on his anger, not only would he expose him and his brother, he’d take you down with him. And Sam had a feeling all of this would end up with you being escorted off the property in handcuffs.

“You have such a beautiful property. It’s so hard to decide where to start with first. All of it’s so breathtaking.” You complimented the man on his luxurious mansion and acres of farmland. You turned your head to glance over at the owner for a moment, but it wasn’t too long before they came across the person you last spoke to. You felt your smile beginning to grow at his tense body language, as if all of this was funny to you. “I’ve got a brand new roll of film, plus a few extra ones. I’m sure I can get all of it on my own.”

“Let me introduce you to the woman in charge of keeping this place together. Y/N, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is Y/N.” The man, who you knew as Carl, introduced you to the young woman. Both of you shook hands and exchanged a formal hello. “Y/N is here to do an article on us for one of those fancy interior decorating magazines Alice is always reading.”

“Yeah. I’ve always found the Cassity’s such an interesting story. I’m sure our readers will love to see the property up close and personal.“ You said, giving the reason why you were allowed past the gates and onto their property. Sam took it upon himself to clear his throat, rather a little loudly, making you turn your gaze upon him. You pretended to gave him a slightly annoyed look, pretending to not know who he was, leading Ellie and Carl to think you were annoyed at this stranger. You looked back at Ellie and gave her a small smile. "I’m sorry. You were in the middle of something important, weren’t you?”

“Who do we got here?” Carl asked, directing his attention to the two men.

“I’m Dean.” The older Winchester introduced himself. You directed your attention for the first time to the man who agreed you should stay behind on this, no sort of anger in his expression. He even smiled at Carl when he shook hands with him, wanting to make a good impression on the man. You knew you’d get an earful from him when he got you alone. If he had the chance. The three of you were here on different lies. And yet somehow you beat them. “This is Sam.“

"Oh. Carl Granville.” He introduced himself to the brothers. “Pleasure.”

“Pleasure.” Sam repeated the greeting back to the man, shaking his hand. It was easy for him to keep himself composed and calm at the moment, because he knew once you and him were out of earshot from anyone important, he was going to give you one more chance to do the right thing before he did something he didn’t really want to do. “So you’re not a Cassity?”

“No, my wife is. Her and her family own the place. I’m just one of those, uh—what do you call ‘em?—trophy husbands.” Carl patted his prominent stomach from the years of luxury meals and other things in his reach. You smiled slightly at his joke. Carl looked over at Ellie, taking a guess she was interviewing the men for the few spots they had open. “So, we hiring these fellas?”

“Not sure yet.” Ellie replied.

“Oh, come on.” Carl said. “They seem like swell guys.”

“Yeah. They seem like the type of men who know how to get down and dirty.“ You said, deciding to play along and agree with Carl on his decision. You looked over at the boys and gave them a slight smirk from what came out of your mouth next. "But it all comes down to if they are team players. Jobs like this need all hands on deck.”

Carl gave his stamp of approval on the brothers, yet the final decision was down on Ellie. When he began walking again you followed right behind until you caught back up with him. Before you went too far, you looked over your shoulder and met eyes with Sam. You knew it was childish when you flashed him a victorious smirk when you went against his word.

Despite his threat about telling his brother about your condition, the both of you knew that it wouldn’t be just you who got the wrath of Dean Winchester. It would be Sam as well. For keeping a secret like this for so long. The boys had just gotten things back to normal, was Sam really going to ruin that because you just wanted to help?

\+ + +

Carl wasn’t too bad for company while he showed you around the farm and told you about how he met his wife, Alice, who you had yet to meet. From what you could gather as you took pictures of the property, making use of the camera that had been sitting in the back of your closet for years, he seemed sweet and a well rounded—in more ways than one.

He told you about met his wife at a Valentine’s day dance way back in the day. The two seemed like an unlikely pair that would ever fall in love; he was a nerdy outsider, Alice was the woman he admitted teased him for his personality. But no amount of bullying could stop him from loving her. So, on the big night of the dance, he marched in there dressed in his very best to impress the woman he secretly fawned over for years. And it was almost love at first sight. She saw him in a different light. You chalked up the story into being about Alice taking a chance on him.

While being in love was a wonderful thing, it didn’t always satisfy a greedy heart. Nobody was satisfied with being dirt poor and in love. She guessed that Carl couldn’t provide her with what she wanted, so she took it upon herself to make all her dreams come true. She wanted her cake and eat it, too. Alice sounded like the one who had the target on her back. Her family was the one who struck oil in a part of the country where it was near impossible to do so, ten years ago tomorrow. And when the big anniversary comes around, there would be a hell hound barging down her front door to rip out her chest and take the very thing she bidded away for a life in the lap of luxury.

Carl let you wander around the property for long as you wanted to take pictures of the farm and kill some time while Alice finished her horse back ride around the property. You made your way over to the stables to peek at the dozen horses they had and see where you could find the boys. You were not disappointed at what you saw; the boys had taken the job to work for the family, doing mundane tasks in order to get close to the family. If only they knew rich people loved to show off their wealth. You parked yourself right next to one of the horses and leaned yourself against the stable wall, trying your hardest not to laugh at what you were seeing.

“Crap—she literally meant crap.” Dean had the unfortunate task of cleaning out the horses’ pens and shoveling up the waste left behind. The smell alone of hay and fecal matter would make anyone want to be sick. He unwillingly shoveled up another pile and dumped the contents into the wheelbarrow. In doing so, he caught the sight of your rather amused expression, thinking the sight of him and his brother doing hard labor was nothing short of amusing. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought we told you to stay back.”

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” You quoted a famous movie line, thinking you were being funny. The annoyed glare and disapproving look from each of the boys told a different story. You rolled your eyes and directed your attention to the horse. You began to softly pet the animal softly and smiled at how well taken care of it was. “You know, if you let me tag along, you wouldn’t have landed yourself in such a crappy situation.”

Dean didn’t think your humor was the least bit amusing. He walked up to the horse that you had been petting and stared straight at it, deciding to tell the animal about how he felt. “I hate you.”

“I don’t care. Do I look like a hippie?”

You and the boys found your attention being directed to the entrance of the barn at the sound of a very annoyed sounding feminine voice. You furrowed your brow slightly when you caught sight of whom you could only presume was Alice Cassity herself, dressed in her very riding clothes and boots that probably cost more than what Ellie made in a month. You furrowed your brow slightly from how upset she was getting from a suggestion Ellie made that sounded like a good idea to you. But rich people were penny pinchers, not spending on things that didn’t directly benefit them if they had to. And it seemed Alice fell right into that category.

“Organic food is better for the cattle.” Ellie tried to suggest a simple change that would benefit the animals that

looked after and took care of. But it seemed her boss didn’t want to hear it.

“My land, my animals, my money, my way—end of story.” Alice said in a strict tone of voice. You would think a woman worth much as her wouldn’t mind spending a few more bucks on making sure her animals were taken care of well enough as her. But it seemed she didn’t care much as the younger woman did. 

Ellie let out a sigh of defeat and made her way into the barn to continue on with her work.. You felt sort of bad for how Alice treated the younger woman when all she was doing was trying to do her job to the best of her ability. Dean decided to crack a joke to help clear the tense air when he saw Ellie coming his way. “She’s a real piece of work, huh?”

“Alice Cassity’s a piece of something, all right? But what are we gonna do?” Ellie asked. “She’s the boss.”

“Drink?” Dean proposed an idea.

You watched as Ellie smiled slightly at the older man’s suggestion, in a kind of way that you’ve seen plenty of times before. The subtle, almost flirtatious kind at something stupid a handsome man said. It was easy to detect because you’ve done it plenty times at Dean when he cracked a joke, and plenty of other women have given it to him when he was single. Ellie looked the man up and down before making her way to the opposite side of the barn. You felt yourself inhaling a deep breath when Dean’s head turned slightly to watch her walk away. A part of you not liking how he was staring at her for longer than he should.

“So, what are we thinking?” You asked, breaking the older man’s concentration where it shouldn’t be at the moment. You made your to the boys and crossed your arms over your chest. “Who’s on the chopping block?”

“Well, Ellie’s the help, so that rules her out.” Dean said.

“And Carl really doesn’t seem like the sell-your-soul type.” You said. While you were talking to him you got the impression he was a simple and happy man who got lucky with love. It brought you back to the reason why you were in the first place, the Cassity’s. “Alice, maybe?”

“Should we go talk to her?” Sam wondered if that was the right thing to do right now.

“Why? So she can lie to us and then call the cops? No. No, we’re gonna have to go stalker on this one, Sammy.” Dean said. You felt his gaze fall upon you, already giving you a hint of what was going to come out of his mouth next. You rolled your eyes before he could even get a word out, already annoyed with what he had to say. “And this one is going to get the hell out of here and back home if she knows what’s good for her.”

Your expression hardened from the way he was treating you, as if you couldn’t help even yourself without getting into some kind of trouble. You knew he was trying to protect you from getting hurt. But you still felt at times he only looked at you like you were still a newbie at all of this…like he couldn’t trust himself to let you take control in fear of you getting hurt. You knew once he found out about everything it was going to be torture and countless battles to get him to not treat you any differently. Like you were helpless…or like your mother. 

Your mother had a complicated medical history that ended with her unable to carry a child to full term. Every single time she tired, it ended in failure. Heartbreak after heartbreak. It might have crippled a woman, some might have stopped after a while. But she never did for years. She kept hope that God would answer her prayers and bring her a healthy child. Just because she was a good person who saved a few lives, it wasn’t enough. Eventually the pain caught up with her and the hungry desire for success. So she did the unthinkable to have you. 

A mother did a lot of things to make sure their children would have a safe upbringing. Yours sold her soul, and when that wasn’t enough, she dragged her husband into her mess. She set you up for failure before you were even born. You wanted to break the cycle. You wanted to close the gates of Hell and banish the trouble she started. What you were doing for your unborn child was the complete opposite of what she had done for you. You were nothing like Ella. You were never going to be like her.

Dean was called away by Ellie when she needed her help with something, only adding more to your bad mood and sudden shift of dislike for her. What it was about her had yet to be discovered. So what if she smiled at Dean? Ellie thought he was some drifter in need of a job, a handsome and single man she could openly and subtly flirt with if she wanted. You were just some stranger here to take pictures and interview the people she worked for. You blamed it on your changing hormones for the way you were reacting.

You crossed your arms tighter of your chest and watched as Dean began to walk away, leaving you and Sam alone for the moment. It wasn’t a second after he watched his brother and Ellie step away out of sight that his facade disappeared since he saw you. When you looked back over at Sam, you were greeted with his infamous bitch face. You weren’t even the least bit threatened or scared from what he was about to say. You were ready to go at it with him.

“I told you to stay back, Y/N.” Sam hissed at you in a whispered tone. You could hear the pure frustration dripping off from his voice. You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a nonchalant look, which only pissed him off even more. “I warned you about what I’d do if you dare so went near this.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit. You got me a little scared. But on the drive here, I got to thinking about this little thing call trust. And how long it took for Dean to do it after what you did to him. Do you think he’s really gonna be able to trust you fully again about the fact that you’ve known about this for over a month now and never told him? Especially after everything that’s happened so far?” You went in the same direction he did yesterday in the bunker. You were hitting below the belt and going straight to the insecurities. The fresh wound to pour salt in to inflict the most pain. “Don’t you ever talk about my child that way like you did yesterday. I would never do anything to hurt them.”

"I didn’t say those things to be harsh. I was giving you the reality you’re choosing to ignore. Do you honestly think Dean isn’t gonna lose it on you first from what you’re doing? He’s gonna drag you out of here—kicking and screaming if he has to. You won’t see the light of day until your due date. When are you going to realize it’s not about you anymore, Y/N?” Sam questioned you. You gave him a look of disbelief from how he was talking to you. Like you were an idiot who had no clue of what you were going through. “It’s about the baby.”

"You don’t think I know there’s a person growing inside of me at this very second? I don’t know. The morning sickness, lack of a period, the certain smells that made me sick, the odd aches and pains, not to mention the mood swings remind me.” You told him. You listed off only a few of the symptoms you had to deal with in order to let nature take its course. “Why do you think I’m here in the first place? It’s for the baby. To play a lousy game of fetch with a hell hound? Or to close the gates for good?”

Sam let out a sigh from how you were acting. He knew there was no point of wasting his breath and trying to talk some sense into you. All he could hope that you would finally understand the risk you were posing just being here. “Go home, Y/N. This isn’t your fight to win.”

But it was your fight you needed to go up against. And it was yours to conquer. You wanted to tell him about how you felt yesterday before you felt, the need to do right and fix the mistakes you made. All of your excuses would just end up falling on deaf ears. Sam was so worried about the baby, he thought it as some sort of weakness. For you it was the complete opposite.

This baby was all your hope. Your reason why you were here in the first place, ready to put your own life on the line so they could have everything you never did. This little bundle of joy was going to be born into a world where they would never have to know about the fear, danger, dread…soul crushing disaster you went through. The trials were the only way that was ever going to happen. The boys might not understand now, but they will when all of this is over.

\+ + +

You knew it was going to be a suicide mission going up against a creature that couldn’t be seen to the naked eye and never personally seen killed. You were going on pure hopefulness that a lot of salt rounds and a gun full of lead bullets with devil’s traps would do the trick. The real hard part was trying to find Ruby’s knife and stealing it from the boys to make sure you could do this right. You remembered Ellie going over a typical routine for herself and workers. The boys would be busy until nightfall working their asses off, which gave you the perfect opportunity to put your plan into action.

Sneaking back onto the property with a bag full of weapons was the easy part, the security guard at the front gate fell for the little white lie about how you forgot something important and desperately needed to get it back. The innocent smile and remark about how good of a job he was doing was all you needed to do to get yourself on the farm again. Your first stop before you did anything was the boys’ sleeping arrangements to get what you needed before you wandered the property to look for the big, bad hell hound.

You were no stranger to picking locks and poking your nose around where you didn’t belong. While you were for sure set on the idea that the boys had the knife close to them and not in the Impala, you didn’t take into consideration that they might have it on them. You searched through all of their bags and in every crack of their temporary room, but nothing. It daunted on you that maybe they were one step ahead of you, tracking down the hound while you searched for the knife that was the only thing that could kill it. You were ready to throw caution to the wind and headed to the car you came in when you heard it—the familiar, spine tingling howl.

The hell hound snuck on the property while you and the boys were distracted with your own problems; the boys stalking after Alice, you frantically looking for the knife they had the whole time. Neither one of you suspecting that Carl wasn’t innocent in this whole ordeal. He was the one who got torn to shreds while Alice wandered the property see what was spooking the horses. You didn’t need to see the body up close and personal when the cops came to investigate the incident they were calling a wolf attack.

If it was Carl who sold his soul, then what for? It didn’t make sense for him to give up everything for Alice to have a wealthy life. Sure, they were happy and in love, maybe he just wanted to give her the luxury she deserved. You wandered around the farm looking for her to see what you could learn from her. She was in the stables grooming one of the horses, not looking like how a grieving widow should be. She seemed rather calm and concentrated on what she was doing. Her eyes weren’t bloodshot from crying, she seemed…okay.

“Mrs. Cassity?” You announced your presence when you slowly walked into the stables, giving her a warm and sympathetic smile from what she was going through. She didn’t seem confused as to what you were doing here this late at night. Nothing seemed to be bothering her at the moment. “I heard what happened to Carl. Even though we just met earlier today, I just wanted to give my condolences. And to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine.” Alice replied in a calm tone of voice. You furrowed your brow slightly, finding yourself being the one who was growing baffled from her reaction. You asked her if she was really okay. She thought about what she was feeling at the moment, seeming to grow slightly concerned for herself from how she was handling this. “I really am. And…I know I shouldn’t be because I loved Carl…I think. I just can’t remember why.”

“Carl told me a little bit about you two. Gave me the impression that you two were head over heels in love with one another.” You said, baiting her into the conversation so she could tell you more. “Opposites attracting, if I may say. It was a cute story of how you two fell in love.” 

“Carl grew up around here. We went to school together, and he was always mooning over me. But I never—I use to make fun of him.” Alice admitted. Her lips stretched into a faint smile at the memories of her delinquent younger self.

“If you don’t mind me asking ,the hopeless romantic in me would love to know when the both of you got together.“ You said. "I mean, do you remember the exact year and date?”

“How could I forget? Valentine’s day, 2003. I was at this party. Carl was there, and it was like I was seeing him for the first time. You know, suddenly he was cute and smart and funny. It was magic. Carl and I were happy for ten years.” Alice said, recollecting back on the happy life she lead with someone she once before would have never given the time of day. Until that fateful night that changed everything.And ten years, around the same time, the feelings just—vanished. in the first place“Now he’s dead, and I’m not sad or angry. I’m just…fine.”

After hearing what Alice had to say about this whole ordeal, you wasted no time in tracking down where the boys ended up. You made your way back to the cabin where you had been snooping around shortly to find Dean packing his belongings, getting ready to hit the road after all of this turned out to be a failure. But it wasn’t. You were ready to tell him what you found, but before a single word came out of your mouth, you were bombarded with all sorts of strange questions that weren’t leading to anything good.

“Hey, we have any graveyard dirt?” Dean asked you. You furrowed your brow slightly, nodding your head, guessing you had some left in the trunk somewhere. “Yarrow?”

“Yeah…No. Dean, no.” You warned the man from what you were suddenly catching on to after he was listing off ingredients for a summoning spell to call the attention of a person who kept a hound for a pet. “I know you’re itching to get this done, but we are not summoning a crossroads demon.”

“That’s right. We’re not. I am. Plan ‘A’ bombed, so welcome to Plan ‘B’—we get some red-eyed bitch in a trap, then Sam and I hold a knife on her until she calls a pooch—special delivery.”

“Brilliant move. You’re forgetting about the part where Crowley finds out we’re dialing up hell.” You said. “He won’t send one hell hound—he’ll send us a hundred. That’s not a plan, Dean—that’s suicide.” 

“Well, you got a better idea?” Dean asked you.

“Yeah, we stay here. While you were busy playing Farmer Joe all day, I actually got some dirt on these people. I just got done talking to Alice. Carl didn’t sell his soul for oil—he sold it for Alice.” You told him what you found out. Dean seemed rather surprised at what he was hearing. Their relationship wasn’t a made in heaven. “He loved her, she barely noticed him, so he made a deal. And now that time’s up, it’s like she barely even knew the guy.”

“You think our demon signed up more than one schmuck while he was in town?” Dean wondered if that was what you were going with this.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Now, look, Dean, this family’s rich because someone booked a one way ticket downstairs. And as of tomorrow, they’re all gonna be right here.”

“And you want to help scope ‘em out?” Dean guessed. “How are you gonna do that?”

“Please. Nancy Drew always finds a way to get what she wants. And what I want is to kill a hell hound and not die.” You said. You gave him your honest motivation for why you were here in the first after being told you couldn’t. They should have known you would’ve sunk your claws into this and had no intention of letting go. “How about you?”

Dean fell silent from the question you asked of him that should have been a quick response. You narrowed your eyes slightly on him from the way that he was acting, making you starting to grow concerned for all the wrong reasons.

“Two days—then we do it my way.” He said, giving into your idea. All though from the sound of his voice he wasn’t the least bit happy. He started to unwillingly unpack, knowing he was gonna be here longer than he intended. “Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

You scoffed from his sudden shift in attitude about the fact that he couldn’t go back to his comfy mattress back home, but you listened to his command, heading back to your hotel room. You knew a way to sneak yourself into the family and their good graces while still rolling with this little lie you had going. All you needed to do was a bit of research and come tomorrow with your charming personality. The rest would work itself out like how you wanted.

\+ + +

The next morning you arrived back at the Cassity household dressed in your very best clothes you packed for the hunt to help rub elbows with the rich. You made a pit stop at a local florist shop to pick up something special to show your condolences for the woman and her loss she was taking a little too well. When you finally got to the farm once again in the later afternoon, you were going to make it seem like you were merely here to pay your respects and leave. But you knew there was someone you could trick into letting you stay past your welcome. 

Alice was the oldest daughter of three girls. You didn’t get much of an impression from her. The middle child was Cindy, who had a promising career as a country singer after having a single on the charts a few years ago. From the articles and blogs you read about her, the starlet’s rise to fame took a nosedive when she began to grow a little too comfy with the bottle. You listened to her latest album she released last year for the holidays…inspired by man’s best friend, dogs. It sure made you chuckle. And many others. But it wasn’t enough for people to take her seriously. 

Then there was the baby of the family, Margot. A woman who hasn’t spoken to her family since she ran off to Paris, the city of lights and love. What could have made her want to her away from her sisters and father so badly? You didn’t know. Probably because she was embarrassed of her family. She carried herself differently from the rest while you watched each of them pile out of their fancy SUV and greeted by Alice. Far as you could tell, they were nothing but a bunch rich brats. And their father wasn’t any better. 

Noah Cassity was seventy one, worth a cool billion dollars and onto his fifth wife—who was old enough to be his granddaughter. She was twenty and a lingerie model. You felt a little uncomfortable when you thought about it. Men like he made your skin crawl. But he was the only chance you had at getting yourself to stay here. Men like him only looked for two things in women; beauty and charm. While you might not be twenty anymore and working with a changing body, you didn’t need to do much to make him invite you to dinner, long enough for you to stick around and play "Who Sold Their Soul.”

You adjusted yourself and got out of the car, heading up to the window and her family you spent a few hours researching and learning all you could about them. Your presence was welcomed with a few strange reactions. Alice seemed a little baffled as to what you were doing here after you unexpectedly stopped by last night. However she seemed not to be bothered by the sight of your warm smile and a orchid plant resting in your hands. You came here to give your sympathies for the woman in her time of need, at least, that’s what she thought.

“Alice, I just wanted to stop by and give you my deepest condolences for what you and your family are going through.“ You said to the woman. "All though I only knew Carl for a short while, he seemed like a very sweet man. I know it’s not, but I felt it was appropriate to thank you for inviting me into your home.”

"And you’re saying that by giving her a house plant…how thoughtful.” Your attention lingered away from Alice and to her younger sister. You noticed that Cindy liked to dress up who she was, a washed up and drunk wannabe singer with a tragic career that not even Daddy’s money could fix. You gave her a smile, pretending to overlook her sarcastic comment and look that you wanted to smack right off her face. She raised her brow slightly, appearing as if she was waiting for something for you to say something. “And you are…?”

“Y/N. I’m sure Alice didn’t have time to tell you about the article that I’m working on. It’s about the Cassity farm. Sort of a ten year anniversary edition.“ You admitted to her, your lips stretching into a bashful sort of way. You moved your gaze away from Cindy for a moment, acting even more shy when you pretended to make eye contact with Noah himself. "You could say I was always a bit of a fan.”

“A pretty name to match an even prettier face. You said your name was Y/N, right? Noah Cassity. But, of course, I’m sure you already knew that.” Their father wasted no effort in shamelessly complimenting you, causing your smile to grow a little wider. His eyes didn’t stay too long on your face before they wandered elsewhere like the dirty old man that he was. Soon enough his gaze fell on the plant you were still holding, wanting to strike up a conversation. “I’ve never had much of a green thumb. What kind of flower is that?”

“It’s an orchid. The florist said it’s suppose to represent love and luxury. I think strength, too. She also mentioned they were known to bring good luck. The kind I went with is cattleya orchid.” You said. “Which represents mature charm.“

“I’ve got plenty to go around if you’re looking for some.” Noah attempted to try and keep this little game up with you. While every instinct was wanting you to gag, you played right along from the smile that never left your face. “I can’t help but notice your car—it’s quite impressive from how well taken care of it is. Sure brings me back to the days when I was a kid. And that was a very long time ago.”

“Yeah. She’s my pride and joy. I inherited it from my grandfather. All though she gives me a lot of trouble, she’s worth it.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “You could say I like older things.”

It didn’t take much of an effort to stroke Noah’s ego before he was inviting you into his home and offering you dinner, striking up a conversation about that article you were supposedly writing about on the family. You followed right behind him into the mansion, getting started on the very long night that was ahead for you and the boys.

\+ + +

If you had a choice between running for your life from a hell hound and spending the rest of the evening with the Cassity’s, you would choose the hell hound without a single second of doubt. Never in your life had you met such a toxic and dysfunctional family. And you thoughts the brothers were bad when they went it. All those arguments and disagreements over the years seemed like a walk in the park compared to what you heard the family try and tear one another town every chance they got. Noah and Cindy were the worst offenders. The more they drank, the less subtle they were about their hatred for one another.

You watched as their wine glasses never went half empty through the evening, making you wish you could have a bottle for yourself just to get through this night without snapping at someone. This was only the very beginning of the challenge you were about to face tonight. If you somehow could survive a night with the Beverly Hillbillies, maybe facing against a hell hound wasn’t going to be so bad. Much as your patience was wearing thin from your unclassy guests, the rest of the evening continued on smoothly when it came to keeping up with your disguises.

Sam was a second pair of helping hands to Ellie, clearing dishes and pouring drinks for the family when it got too low for their standards. If you had to trade places with the younger Winchester, there was no doubt in your mind you would end up “accidentally” missing their wine glass when they asked for a refill. You tried to ask a question here and there to keep up the illusion that you were here for a supposed interview, but every time you tried to talk you were drowned out by Cindy’s obnoxious voice. 

Dinner time was decent enough for the most part, minus the lingering smell of cooking steaks on the grill from outside that Dean was preparing. You ate around the main course, choosing to nibble on the side dishes and pushing away the bloody piece of steak that you could only pretend to eat a piece of before spitting it out in your napkin. The baby refused to let you enjoy anything that was from a dead animal. Sometimes you wondered if this was really Dean’s child you were carrying.

Margot pecked at her food and moved around a few things with her fork while her oldest sister Alice was rather silent tonight, caught up with her own personal thoughts of the past twenty-four hours. And how much it wasn’t effecting her like how it should have been. Almost all of the conversation was coming from Cindy and her father, which only consisted of even more petty jabs that made you want to roll your eyes in annoyance. Every once in a while Noah would look in your direction and give you a smile that was his attempt at flirting.

Sam had the patience of a saint and had one of the strongest poker faces you’ve ever seen from having to wait on everyone hand and foot, yourself included. He made sure to clear dishes when he noticed they were done and made an extra effort that no one’s wine glass was the slightest bit empty. Sam topped off Cindy’s glass for the third time in the past half an hour until it was full as the rest of everyone else. However she didn’t think it was enough, waving her index finger at him to keep it coming. He poured out a little more…only to find out the bottle was empty.

Cindy scoffed to herself at the terrible service and waved Sam off like he was suddenly bothering her. You felt yourself becoming irked at how she was treating the younger man with no respect whatsoever, causing you to stare at her with a dirty glare at how trashy she was being. It seemed your lingering stare didn’t go unnoticed by her. When she looked in your direction, your attitude was hidden behind a smile, causing her to roll her eyes and attend back to the company of her wine glass.

“Al, I’m so sorry about Carl.” Margot spoke up with an actual conversation topic that wasn’t an attempt at trying to tear one of their family members down. She gave her older sister a sympathetic half smile at the pain she thought the woman was going through. “I mean, he was the love of your life.”

Alice furrowed her brow slightly at the mention of her husband of ten years. Someone she didn’t remember loving much as people said she did, who she should have been in mourning. But for some reason she couldn’t quite get herself to do. No matter how hard she tried. “Right.”

“Please,” Their father threw his cloth napkin to the table at the mention of Carl. It seemed Noah, the man who was on his fifth wife, that was old enough to be his granddaughter, had something to say about Alice’s choice in partners that he always disapproved of. “She can do better.”

“Maybe Alice should marry a child—take after her father.” Cindy suggested a brilliant idea that she knew her father would surely agree to. She was leaning back in her seat with an arm resting on the back of the chair, her other hand holding her wine glass that was ready to be downed in the matter of only a few sips. Noah rolled his eyes at his daughter’s rude remarks against his blushing bride, defending his wife saying that she wasn’t a child. Cindy begged to differ. “Right. She’s a prostitute who looks like a child.”

“Are you done?” Margot asked in a sharp tone of voice. She was steadily growing annoyed with her family’s explicit and rude behavior that wasn’t fit for the reason why they were all gathered here today. “Alice is in mourning. And we have guests.”

"Oh, I’m sorry, Margie. I didn’t see you there—you’re too far up on your high horse.” Cindy said. Margot adjusted herself in her seat, trying not to become visibly upset at her sister’s behavior, Cindy giggled at how easy the kid could be effected. You handed off your half eaten dinner to Ellie and got ready to thank her, but you found your attention lingering over to Cindy at what she mentioned next. “Oh, yes, but you are right—we should all take a minute to say a few words about Carl. For that fancy little article you’re doing. You first, Margie. Was he a good lay?”

Every family had their dirty laundry that was eventually going to come out in the open. You had to sit back and watch this trainwreck unfold right in front of your eyes. Alice sounded surprised at what she was hearing, Margot suddenly appeared like a deer in headlights. Cindy couldn’t tell the story fast enough. “Oh, you didn’t know? Yeah, Daddy caught ‘em going at in the barn.”

Alice looked over at her younger sister that sat across from her at the table. A look of pain and disbelief crossed her expression at what she was hearing. “Al, it was before you two got together.” Margot tried to explain herself, growing guilty at the truth she never wanted to come out. Especially at a time like this. “I mean, Carl—he loved you.”

"Yeah, that was back when Margie was fat and Cin was sober,” Noah seemed to have all the money in the world, but not enough to buy him some class. And any sort of respect his children enough to talk about them in a decent light. “A long time ago.”

“Get cancer and die, old man.” Cindy told the old man, titling her drink at him.

“You first, sweetie.” Noah replied back.

Sam walked past you with each hand full of dinner plates with food nobody had touched much of, too busy drinking and tearing one another down to enjoy the food Dean made. You reached out a hand and grabbed him by the wrist, making him stop and look down at you, wondering if something was wrong. There very much was. And there was only one solution to your problem to make it better. “I need a drink. Now.”

“Well,” Alice sat back in her seat and got herself more comfortable, a smile spreading across her lips at the sight of her family under one roof. All though the conversation and atmosphere might have been unpleasant, the woman wanted to see the silver lining of the situation. “I can’t remember the last time we all sat down and had a meal together.”

“It was back at the old, crappy house,” Cindy remembered, a faint smile stretching across her lips at the more simpler time in her life. “when Daddy invited that traveling salesman to dinner.”

Margot smiled at the found memory from what felt like a lifetime ago. “Oh, him.”

“He was so charming.” Alice mummered, her lips stretching to a smile of her own.

“Yeah,” Cindy agreed. “English.”

“What was his name—Kenny?” Noah asked, trying to remember the fellow. “Crow—”

“Crowl—”

The family worked together in trying to put a name to a face, muttering half attempts underneath their breath as they rattled their brains to remember. Sam popped open another bottle of wine and was heading over to fill up everyone’s glasses while you took a sip of your water. But it seemed that was a mistake from the name that you heard slip out from everyone’s mouth at the same time when they got it correct after a few more tries. The name you grew to despise at the mere thought of. Someone who you had met years back on mere chance of the same reason after you attempted to sell your own soul to him; Crowley.

Once the king of the crossroads, now known as the king of Hell. You choked on your drink when you heard a series of Crowley’s name spoken up while Sam stopped dead in his tracks. While you got a few stares at your unexpected outburst, you managed to compose yourself long enough to excuse yourself from the table and to the bathroom, knowing that wasn’t anywhere near where you were headed. You and Sam snuck outside to the backyard where you met up with Dean to discuss what you learned about inside that was actually useful. And it seemed the older Winchester was surprised a you were from what the both of you discovered.

“Crowley?” Dean repeated the name.

“That’s what they said.” Sam said. No matter what you and the boys did, the demon always seemed to be tied into a mess of yours one way or another. “Apparently, he swung through town ten years ago, to the day.”

“So, what,” Dean asked, trying to somehow make sense of what happened to the family over a decade ago. “do you think tea and crumpets made these deals and now he’s collecting?”

“Or he just sent his dog—told it to go fetch.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking a wild guess at what the demon decided to do what he felt was fit. Crowley wasn’t the type of person who got his hands dirty when it came to deals he made before his big promotion. only when it benefited him. “He’s the king of hell. Grabbing a few souls—that’s got to be below his pay grade.”

“I guess.” Dean said. “Any idea who signed the dotted line?”

“Not a single clue. The only thing I can get out of them is stories that prove of how terrible they are. If Cindy wasn’t the one who sold her soul, I’ll gladly kill her myself.” You said. Looking back at the house, you dreaded the thought of having to go back in there and play nice with the family that was driving you up the wall. “God, it’s brutal in there.” 

The sound of Dean’s phone going off made you shift focus for a moment when he pulled it out from his pocket and answered it after seeing it was the prophet himself calling with something important. “Hey, Kevin, what’s up?”

“Hey, Dean, good news, uh, I think…kind of.” Kevin sounded rather positive and the slightest bit hesitant from what he was about to share with you and the boys, as if he wasn’t sure it might be translated properly. Dean rolled his eyes, telling the kid not to over sell it. “Sorry. I found something on the tablet, about hell hounds. Uh, this mean anything to you—'the dire creatures may seen only by the damned or through an object scorched with holy fire’?”

“Like with holy oil?” Sam asked.

“It’s got to be.” Dean said. “We could use a window.”

“Or glasses.” Kevin suggested an even better idea.

“I think we’ve still got some Jesus juice left in the trunk. All right, I’ll take care of the x-ray specs. You and Y/N stay here.” Dean said. “Do not let J.R. and the gang out of your sight, all right?”

“Right.” Sam agreed. “Hey, Kevin, you did great, man. Get some sleep.”

You heard Kevin attempt to thank the younger man at the kind behavior from how much stress he was putting himself through, but he was cut off in mid-sentence when Dean ended the call. You gave the man a look, but there was no time to be wasted on a conversation when there was a hell coming to dinner. You and Sam headed back inside the house while Dean made his way to look around the property to see if he could find anything to prove what Kevin found. After making your way to the bathroom and coming out a few short seconds later, you made your way back to your seat, pretending like everything was normal.

Sam grabbed the open bottle of wine he set down on the counter just a few minutes ago and made his rounds across the table. You noticed that there was a few people missing, Alice and Cindy remained where they were after you left. You didn’t think much of Noah and Margot’s absence, presuming the youngest wandered away from the table to be by herself and her father was doing something that you really didn’t want to know. But it seemed the two of them wanted to go for a father-daughter night stroll, armed.

“Oh, look. Daddy’s drunk and armed.” Cindy said. You furrowed your brow slightly from what she was talking about, knowing her father was nowhere to be seen in the house. When you followed your gaze to the window that overlooked the front yard, you felt a curse word slip out from your mouth at what you were seeing. Cindy thought it was hilarious. "It must be Christmas.”

You didn’t even bother trying to make up an excuse when you jumped out of your chair and made your way outside, ignoring the fact that it was late in February and it was freezing outside. Sam followed right behind on your heels, not wanting you anywhere near a drunk man with a shotgun. A hell hound might not kill you tonight, but a hick looking for something to shoot might do the trick. Sam’s legs might have been longer than yours, but you beat him by just a few seconds, calling out for the attention of Noah and Margot before they did something stupid out there that would only get them killed and scare off the hound you intended to kill.

“Hey!” You called out to the two Cassity’s that were about to seal their fate to a demon they had no clue was about to screw them over, a plan that was ten years in the making. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Wherever I damn well please.” Noah said. You had to maintain a brisk walk in order to keep up with them. Sam finally caught up with you to finally try and stop this mess from happening. “The wolf that killed my son-in-law—he’s a man-eater, got to be put down.“

“Doing this for Carl.” Margot added to prove their point.

"Oky, just—just hold on a second.” Sam said, trying to do anything that he could to get them to at least slow down before they went into the woods with nothing more than a couple of shotguns and a pistol that was only going to piss off the beast they were going to go up against. Noah shook his head, wanting to do this right now. All though he knew this was going to be a bad idea, Sam stooped to their low, offering an extra set of hands. “I’ll come with you.”

That was enough for everyone to stop in their tracks, yourself included. You knew it would be suicide if he went out there with a blind eye, no chance of going up against the hound without at least testing Kevin’s theory. But if he let Noah and Margot slip away and get ripped to pieces, the hound might take what its owner wanted and retreat back to hell. It was a lose/lose situation no matter how you looked at it. And much as you would let them walk off to their own fate any other day of the week, they got lucky, because tonight you needed to kill that hell hound.

“You know anything about hunting, boy?” Noah asked.

“A little bit, yeah.” Sam admitted.

Noah stared at the man for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he was thinking about what his answer was going to be. Sam was a tall and well built man, someone who didn’t seem like the type who would be scared off easily. He looked over at his youngest daughter and nodded his head, making her hand over the shotgun to Sam, leaving her with a lousy pistol that you knew wasn’t going to save her life if they found the thing they were looking for.

When you saw Noah and Margot start to make their way into the woods and Sam following behind, something in you suddenly froze over with fear. You quickly reached out and grabbed the younger Winchester by his arm, making him stay behind for just a few seconds longer.

“Wait. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” You whispered. You felt your eyes lingering on the shadowy figures of the Cassitys that were getting closer and closer to the woods. Part of you wanted to get the hell out of here and let them suffer their own fate. And another wanted you to get Sam out of danger, in fear he was going to get himself killed. “Maybe I should go get—”

“What you need to do is go back to the house.” Sam cut you off, not wanting to hear any sort of idea your brain was scheming up. He was at his breaking point with you and the crap you’ve been pulling over the past day and a half since arriving here, poking your nose in things where it didn’t belong. You opened your mouth to try and finish what you were going to say, didn’t even let you get out a breath. “No, Y/N. You’ve already caused enough trouble. Get back to the house. Keep an eye on Alice and Cindy. If Dean wants to know where I am, tell him I’m looking out for the rest of them. Got it?”

It was now or never to do the right thing that Sam had been trying to drill into your brain, not only for the sake of yourself, but for the trials. You knew he was only trying to help and protect you. When you nodded your head and began backing away slowly, giving him a sense of relief at how you were finally coming to your senses, all of it was for you to buy some time. There was no way you were letting him slip out into those woods and put himself in danger like that.

Kevin mentioned something about how the damned could see hell hounds—demons, mostly. Maybe God didn’t have enough room to mention that people made out of deals and once was one of those black eyed monsters, who was created by Lucifer himself, could also still see those beasts. When you were a half-demon, you could see the hounds for what they were.. All though you were human like the rest of these people on the farm, it was worth a shot to see if you still had a little bit left in you. The Devil was in the details. But if you were wrong about this…

No. This wasn’t the time for you to become distracted by the worst case scenarios that might end in death. The possibilities of things going sour because you stuck your neck out and tried to save the day. Because that wasn’t going to happen. You made your way back to the house, but you made a beeline for your car, knowing you brought your own kind of backup for tonight. You went to the trunk and pulled out a shotgun of your own, instead it being filled with bullets, you chose rock salt instead. It might not wound a hound, but it’d hurt like a bitch that it was.

You made your way to the woods where you knew the rest of the family was and the hound would surely be on the prowl, stalking its victims, waiting for the right time to make its move. You were going to take the shortcut through the barn to sneak your way without Sam seeing you. Right as you were about to sneak your way through, you found yourself stumbling upon a sight that made you stop dead in your tracks, and feeling a hot rage you’ve never quite had before.

You saw Dean talking to who could only be Ellie by the sound of her echoing voice, and from how the conversation was going, it seemed she was trying to seduce your boyfriend into her bed for the night. You felt your grip around the shotgun tighten at how blunt she was being with him. Your mind momentary was struck with the thought that you had a clear shot to her back if you really wanted to take it. All though rock salt might not kill her, you knew it’d knock the wind out of her. And get the three of you thrown out of here so fast it’d make your head spin.

You wouldn’t call yourself a jealous person. There were plenty of times women shamelessly try to flirt and bat their eyes at Dean, you couldn’t blame them for at least trying to get his attention. The man had a charming personality with rugged and handsome looks to match. There was just something about him that others wanted to know more about. It was part of the reason why you were so attracted to him for so many years before you and him got together. All though you knew him for long as you could remember, there was still so much more that he wouldn’t share. But you knew enough that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your relationship for a quick hookup with a young, pretty face.

All though Dean always had a soft spot for frisky women who liked to play the field much as he did, and while he couldn’t deny Ellie was attractive, she wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t you. It never crossed his mind that he wanted this. His brain kept telling him to run, to get out of here before she could kiss him like she was trying to. Maybe if things were different, if they met when he was younger, he’d take the chance to show her a good time. But he couldn’t do that. He slowly pushed the woman away, nervously chuckling to himself at how awkward this was going to end.

“Look, Ellie…much as I admire your confidence, I can’t do this.” Dean told the woman. “I’ve got a girl back home.”

“I thought you were a drifter.” Ellie said. “Somebody who doesn’t like strings attached.”

“If you asked me last year, I’d definitely say yes. I mean, I was the person who didn’t like to be in the same place for a long time. But…I realized that settling down isn’t so bad. I like being with the same person. She knows who I am. Bad crap and all. And she’s still with me. I want to settle down with her. We just go this…amazing place. I’m only here because I want to give her the life she deserves.“ Dean found himself rambling on about something that Ellie had no clue what he was talking about. But he did. Dean took a small step back from the woman to try and put some distance between them. "I love her enough to know that even having this conversation with you makes me feel all sorts of wrong.” 

“Forget about her. Who says she’ll ever find out? This could be our little secret we take to the grave.” Ellie tried a little more to persuade the man. Dean, once again, pushed her away when she attempted to lean forward into his personal space. “She means enough to you that you’d turn down a night with a stranger?”

“Yes. Because I love her very, very much. She has been through enough crap with me over the past year alone to know that I can’t hurt her. Just…” Dean let out a sigh, throwing his hands up at a last ditch effort to get himself out of this situation before it could grow worse. “When you meet someone you fall in love with and a strange guy wants to have a quickie, you’ll understand what I’m trying to say. You’re still young, Ellie. You have your whole life ahead of you." 

The expression on Ellie’s face faltered slightly at the last thing Dean mentioned. He watched her grow silent for a moment as she began taking a few steps back from him, suddenly wanting to get away from him. "This is a one night opportunity. Take it or leave it.”

Dean watched as Ellie took a few more steps back before she turned around, heading back to her cabin to enjoy the rest of her lonely night. He found himself trying to wrap my head around what the hell just happened. Ellie had made a few subtle remarks here and there that Dean thought was just shameless flirtation on her part, he didn’t react much on it. But he found himself lingering on her bold behavior that for some reason that felt out of character for her. 

She love her job and the farm she worked on, sleeping with some drifter she knew nothing about didn’t seem like a move she’d pull. Unless she was living like tonight was her last night on Earth. Sort of like how he remembered you acted just a mere hour before your demon deal was about to wrap up. You kissed him, because you thought you were going to die that night. And you intended to make sure your feelings for the man were known before you were torn apart by the hell hound looking for you.

You had every intention of going into those woods and finding the hell hound to try and pick a fight with it, but you found yourself realizing it wasn’t going to be that easy. The sound of a piercing scream echoed through the night air, traveling from the dark woods that Sam was lurking around in with two of the Cassity’s just a few minutes ago. From the sound of the high pitched scream, you knew it was only going to be one coming out of there. Margot was the first victim tonight of the hound, and if you weren’t fast enough, there was going to be more.

You and the boys headed back to the house after Sam dragged Noah back to safety and scared off the hell hound for a little while. The news of the youngest Cassity’s death caused Alice and Cindy to become shocked, all though they weren’t all that close, the death of a loved one always hurt. You didn’t have much time for them to grieve about their little sister, because if you didn’t put this place on lock down, anyone who sold their soul to their traveling salesman ten years ago was going to suffer the same fate as Margot. After being torn apart by a hell hound yourself, you knew it wasn’t a pleasant death you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

“What was that thing?” Noah demanded to know.

“It was a hell hound. See, when you sell your soul to a demon, they’re the ones that come and rip it out of you.” Dean explained to the man. Alice didn’t seem to understand how she came in contact with a demon. Most people thought of the hell spawn as evil creatures with pointy horns and ugly faces. But they looked like regular people; smooth-talking, charming salesman looking for a few idiots to sign their soul over. “Crowley. Poncy guy, about yea big, mountain of dicks. We know he was here ten years ago, making dreams come true. Now, if you didn’t sign, great. That freak out there won’t touch you. But if you did, I need to know, and I need to know now. So, hands up.”

“So, wait. The british guy was a demon, and how there’s a hell hound after us?” Noah tried wrapping his head around all the foolish talk he was hearing from three people that he had met only earlier today. You nodded your head, already growing impatiens from the lack of trust he was giving you. You knew damn well he saw his own daughter get her throat ripped out by an invisible force, but he was still choosing to believe you were the crazy one. "Are you insane?”

“They’re obviously insane.” Cindy said. You rolled your eyes in frustration at the mere sound of her voice, wanting nothing more than to tell her to shut up if she knew what was good for her. All night she had been driving you up the wall, and much as you wanted to see her get what was coming to her, you needed her as bait.

“Don’t play dumb.” Sam warned the younger woman.

“Yeah. I’m not playing dumb.” She said. “I didn’t sell my damn soul.”

“Well, I could’ve guessed that from the life you’ve lived over the past decade. All you turned out to be a one-hit wonder with a drinking problem. Or you’re just too stupid to be specific about what you wanted.” You snapped at her, getting her to shut up. “Somebody here did. And sooner that idiot owns up, the sooner the rest of you can go.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for someone to be a decent human being here and spare their family the danger that was about to unfold. But it seemed none of them had enough pride to swallow to confess the sins they made. Maybe Noah didn’t want to admit he kissed a man to get his family’s fortunes and save his children. Cindy had too much arrogance to admit she accidentally screwed up her wish for fortune and fame. Dean seemed to have gotten his answer, deciding to go with Plan B after everyone clammed up. "All right, seal ‘em in.”

“Look, I’m gonna spread goofer dust around the woods, the windows. That will keep the hell hound out…for a while.” Sam told the family what he was going to do in order to keep them a chance to see tomorrow. All if it sounded like gibberish nonsense that didn’t make sense.

“What is that—how long?” Noah questioned all of you.

“Long enough for me to stab it in its throat.” Dean explained to the man. Noah sighed and began shaking his head, mumbling underneath his breath that none of you could do this. Now wasn’t the time to hear any sort of protest. Dean didn’t hesitate a single second to pull out his loaded pistol and pointed it at the man to make him complacent. “Yes, I can. You want to know why? Because it’s what I do. And, buddy, I’m the best. See, I gut old Yeller out there, and maybe—just maybe—you walk away. I don't—you’re meat. So, sit down, shut up…and put these on.”

The easy part of this was getting everyone to cooperate when you grabbed the first set of cuffs from Dean and secured everyone to a heavy piece of furniture so they wouldn’t do anything stupid to themselves or others. Sam made sure to cover every doorway and window with goofer dust, keeping out the beast that was surely getting antsy. When you cuffed Alice to a table, she had been the most cooperative out of her family, but she still had her own fears about what was going on.

“I don’t understand…” She said. “Who are you people?”

“We’re here to help.” You reassured her.

“Like you helped Margie?” Noah’s question made you chuckle slightly from how he was trying to pin his daughter’s death on you, like it was your fault he dragged her out into those woods and make the beast who killed his son-in-law pissed off. She got what was coming to her.

“Listen up, when the hell hound gets close, you might start seeing things, hearing things. It’s gonna feel like you took the brown acid, and it’s trying to kill you.The handcuffs are so you won’t hurt yourselves.” You explained to them, warning the poor schmuck whose life was about to get a lot worse in the matter of a short time. “As for someone who went down this path once before, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“And when one of you starts bugging out,” Dean added, “we’ll know who’s on tap to be puppy chow.”

Secrets like this always were brought out in the open, no matter how hard someone could try to bury them. You gave the family a warning glare to stop them from doing anything stupid. This was the moment of truth from what you’ve been waiting to accomplish for months now. You inhaled a deep breath when you began walking away, turning your back to the group as you subconsciously ran a hand over your stomach, suddenly coming to the realization what you had signed yourself up for. There was a hell hound circling around outside. Every time you had come in contact with one things never ended well. But you were determined to break that streak.

You headed over to Dean when you noticed he was finishing up another doorway to make sure all of you had at least a safe spot to protect yourself from the beast outside. “So…” You brought your voice only up to a whisper, glancing back at the group to make sure things were still going smoothly. “What’s our play?”

“Well, you and Sammy camp here, figure out who whored their soul. I’m gonna go scout the grounds—see if I can’t gank Huckleberry hound before he makes his next move.” Dean said. It seemed from the sounds of it that he was already a few steps ahead of you. You scoffed at what you were hearing, quickly following behind the man and stepping over the line of goofer dust.

Sam overheard the conversation you and his brother were having, it came as no surprise when he joined the both of you, voicing his opinion on the older man’s plan “Wait, you’re not going out there alone, Dean. I’m gonna come with you.” Sam said. Dean didn’t think so, he shot down the man’s idea. But that wasn’t going to stop his little brother. “Uh, they’re on lockdown, and you need backup. Y/N can keep an eye out on them.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I need the both of you to be safe, okay?” Dean said. “That’s what I need.”

“What? When am I—when are

ever safe?” You didn’t know why you let those words slip out from your mouth, considering the state you were in, but it was the truth. Every single time you stepped out into the world there was a chance your life was going to be cut short. But here you were, after everything you went through, you were fine. And you were ready to stick your neck out just a little more to make sure things went the way you wanted. But it seemed that Dean didn’t want to risk that chance on you or his little brother.

“This is different.” Dean said. You raised your brow slightly, wondering what he could have possibly meant by that. “Because of the three trials crap—God’s little obstacle course. We’ve been down roads like this before—with Yellow Eyes, Lucifer, Dick friggin’ Roman. We both know where this ends—one of us dies…or worse.”

“So, what—you just up and decide it’s gonna be you?” Sam asked his brother.

“I’m a grunt, Sam. You and Y/N aren’t. You’ve always been the brains of this operation. And you always pulled our asses out of the fire. It’s time to change that.” Dean said. You felt your face scrunch up from the way that he was talking. No matter how many times you went through this, he only thought there was one ending to this situation. Sam tried his hardest to talk some sense into his brother, but the man didn’t want to hear it. “You told me yourself that you see a way out. You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don’t. But let me tell you what I do know—it’s that I’m gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that’s what I have waiting for me—that’s all I have waiting for me.”

You stared at him with disbelief at what you were hearing come out of his mouth. And it seemed that Dean didn’t want to say it himself from the guilty expression that crossed his face, but it was the truth that needed to be said. “I want the both of you to get out. I want you to have a life—become a Man of Letters, whatever. You, Sammy, with a wife and kids, and grandkids, living till you’re fat and bald and chugging Viagra—that is my perfect ending, and it’s the only one that I’m gonna get.”

“What about me? Where do I fit into your ‘perfect ending’?” You questioned the man. You stared at him with a face full of pain and frustration from how he was acting. The selfish and blind man who only knew one way out of this situation. “Why does this always have to end up with one of us dying? Aren’t you sick and tired out of that outcome? And don’t you dare tell me that’s how it’s gotta be. This is different than any other crap show we’ve went up against.”

“You’re right.” Dean agreed with you on that point, but not in the way you were trying to make him understand. “There’s a chance I can actually put a stop to all of this once and for all.”

“You’re not a ‘grunt’, you’re not a person on a suicide mission because you have nothing left to live for. You are so much more than that. You are a hero. You are the man I love. And you know what the most important thing you’re going to be? A father.” You felt the words slip out of your mouth before you could stop them, the ones that you had spent weeks agonizing over. Trying to figure out how you were going to get him to tell him the news. The secret that Sam threatened to expose if you came here. But it seemed you did that yourself. And it felt…good. 

You slipped a hand into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out a glossy photograph that you had been carrying around with you the day since you got it a week or so back. You shoved it into Dean’s chest, making him grab onto it. “You said yourself that you wanted to give me the life I deserve. I want what you want for Sam. I want us to have a family…” You trailed off, watching as Dean forced himself to look at the picture you showed him. It was of his unborn child, the one that you were carrying at this very moment. “And we’re going to have one.”

Dean found himself staring at the ultrasound picture for longer than you anticipated. You bit the inside of your cheek and waited for any kind of word to slip out from his mouth, a light to go off his head. But all you could see was sadness creeping into his face, the unexpected twist in a story that wasn’t going to be his wake up call. It was going to be the final push off the edge. You felt that familiar sense of dread, the heaviness in your chest creeping back. This was exactly what you feared, what your nightmares taunted you with when you couldn’t sleep at night. You fought every instinct inside of you not to start crying.

“I’m gonna go do these trials. I’m gonna do them alone—end of story. You’re staying here. I’m going out there. If a landshark comes knocking, you call me.” Dean told you and his brother exactly how it was going to be. “If you try to follow me, Y/N, I will not hesitate a second in cuffing you with the rest of them. And Sammy…keep your eyes on her like your life depends on it. And it does. I will put a damn bullet in your leg if you even take your eyes off of her for a second.”

You had thought of every worse case scenario that could happen when you told the news about him becoming a father. Most of them ended with him walking out on you sort of in the same way he did for Lisa. Because he was scared of making the same mistakes like he had with the Braden family. What you saw unfold was more heartbreaking than anything your mind could make up. In all those scenarios he tried to make an effort to make the pain hurt a little less. But he wasn’t even trying. His brain wouldn’t even consider the possibility that doing the trials wasn’t worth it. Because was trying to make you hate him.

"Dean Winchester, don’t you dare walk out that door. Don’t you dare do this to me…” You tried everything in your power to make him stay, but not even the tone of your voice could reach him. You watched as he began to make his way to the door. You could see the ultrasound picture still in his hand, nestle in there as some kind of reminder for what he had to do. You could try all you want to get his attention, but there was no point. He was a lost cause. You heard the door open, and then just a few seconds later, close shut.

\+ + +

Nothing good happens to Dean Winchester; he was the big brother, the person who was taught by his hero, his own father, to always do the right thing. To always have everyone else’s back. Make the big sacrifice in order to save the day. Because that’s what a good soldier does—what he was taught to be from the age of four. Dean didn’t get a normal childhood like most people, he didn’t learn how to love someone in a way that let them see him who he really was. While he knew emotions weren’t a weakness, they were something that everyone had, and they’d come to bite him in the ass at one point or another. He knew that people were. He taught himself the only important aspects of his life was to kill the bad guy and look out for his little brother.

Family was something he didn’t really know, either. His mother died when he was four after being engulfed into flames, his dad sold his soul to the very same demon who ruined their lives. And despite always trying to save the day, his little brother was dragged through the ringer a few too many times. Not to mention, the only true father figure that tried to give him a childhood, Bobby Singer, was dead. And don’t get Dean Winchester started on friends.

Where were all of they? Dead. Ash? Dead. Jo and Ellen? Dead. Pamela? Dead. Every woman that Sam ever loved? Also dead. Minus the expectation of Amelia, who probably hated the man’s guts and would probably want to see him dead after he stood her up.

Dean still tried to do things like normal people did. He found himself falling in love a very long time ago to a woman who seemed like she was a good match for him, and while it only lasted a month, Dean let himself get too comfortable. And it ended with him getting his heart broken. A handful of years later he tried his hand at having a family with a woman who knew about the things that went bump in the night. She opened up her door to him and put her trust in him, she even let him look after her son like he was his own. But it ended with her nearly dying.

And then there was Emma…the one night stand who turned out to be a trap set by an Amazon woman who only wanted him for more than his good looks. She got knocked up with his kid and had a daughter in the span of only a few days. Dean admitted that she looked a little bit like him, but she got her mother’s nasty temper and monster genes. It ended the only way it was suppose to, with her uncle putting a bullet in her head before she did something horrible to either one of them. Dean learned to expect nothing but the worse case scenario in every situation that looked like it might turn out just the slightest bit okay. Because that’s what life only handed him. Nothing but pain and misery. Right?

Dean stared at the small photograph in his hand for a long minute or two, his thumb brushing against the the smooth texture, accidentally covering up the small silhouette of a body made out from hues of gray lines. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what it was. A fetus. A baby. A new little human life that you were carrying in your body at this very second. Something that was made from half of you, and half of him. Dean felt his breathing shift into swallow ones from the reality that was hitting him all at once, his words racing around in his mind.

You were pregnant with his kid. You and him were expecting your very first child. He was going to be a father. Sammy was gonna be an uncle. Dean felt his lips stretch into the tiniest smile, for a fraction of a second, he felt that happiness—the rush of excitement, that high of something good was going to happen. But it didn’t last for very long, kind of like most things in his life.

Because of the little voice in the back of his head, the one that had been following him around since he was a kid. It came in different versions of self criticism for how he let himself turn out after all these years. Nightmares. An intrusive thought when he was having a decent day. Much as he tried to bury it with people and things that made him happy, it always came back. The fear clawed at him like a feral monster and tore apart the good news he was trying to enjoy. It climbed back up to his ear like his own little devil that sat on his shoulder, and whispered the reminder he almost forgot about in a taunting voice: “Nothing good happens to Dean Winchester.”

\+ + +

You felt yourself wanting to scream out every insult and swear word you’ve ever known on the top of your lungs from the pure frustration you were feeling right now. Because it was the easiest one to process at this very moment. A stack of very expensive looking plates caught your eye when you paced around the kitchen for a good few seconds, the sight of them just sitting there, looking perfect made a sudden wave of wrath take over you. Without even a second thought you were ready to push them off the counter. Watching them break into tiny little pieces seemed like the most satisfying thing to edge your temper a little less.

Before you could do so, you felt someone wrap their hand around your wrist, dragging you back to reality. The simple touch to your body suddenly made you freeze up. Your mind, even at its most fragile and frustrated, could flip a switch. Somehow you tricked yourself into thinking that it was Dean. He came back after being gone for a few minutes. You knew it was too good to be true. He didn’t want to see you hurt yourself. You felt yourself ready to drop every single ounce of anger at him if he was ready to think about this logically.

When you looked over your shoulder and to the face, you felt your heart sinking even deeper at the sight of it being Sam. He looked just as defeated as you from what he had to see happen. The young man was trying his hardest to keep himself together for your sake. He knew how hard it was going to be for you to tell Dean about all of this. He’d only used your shared secret against you because he wanted to keep you safe. He had no intention of telling his brother. And he no clue his brother was going to react the way he did.

Sam was sure that his brother would have at least been a little bit excited, maybe even take it as a sign that he needed to get out of his own ass. But not even having a child with the woman he was in love with since he was young would get Dean to stop thinking that he only caused people he loved pain. Dean figured the only way to make sure all of you were safe was by doing these stupid trials. It was always about self sacrifice.

Dean didn’t take into consideration about the aftermath of these kind of things. Sure, there was a possibility that Sam could have gotten what he wanted if this all worked out; a wife, kids, a normal life. Something he dreamed about for years while he was growing up the way his father wanted. He got a taste of it last year with Amelia, and he’d do anything to get it back sometimes. But nothing in life was free. Was closing the gates of hell worth losing his brother all over again for it? Was it worth seeing you spend the rest of your life heartbroken, raising a child on your own who would have no idea who their father was. Only getting a visual from stories you would tell them and few photographs? No. No, it wasn’t.

You knew from the very moment you learned about the supernatural world that there wasn’t a chance you were going to be able to live a normal life again. You tried to live the best one that you could after your mother passed, but you suffered from nightmares for years and paranoia. It became even worse when you became a hunter, your life turned more bitter and shorter. You lost so many people, been dragged to hell and back twice, seen the darkest corners of evil that drove some of you to do horrible things. But, despite all of the evil things you witnessed, the acts you inflicted on others, you still wanted to have this child. Because if there was something else you learned about this life, it was that everything was worth fighting for.

You’d do anything to make sure this child’s life would be better than yours. And you knew that Dean’s life wasn’t going to be long. There was always a chance something could happen while on a hunt that ended with only one Winchester coming back, or neither one of them. But seeing his reaction after you told him the news, how he just…gave up on you and your child so quickly. It would be less painful if he ripped your still-beating heart out of your chest.

You’ve felt abandonment before, you felt alone in the darkest times of your life when everything you once knew was ripped out from beneath your feet and the person who raised you wasn’t kindhearted as you remembered. Even when you felt like you weren’t worthy of being loved by anyone, someone was always there for you. It was Dean, who held your hand and reassured you that everything was going to be okay. Yes, there was a few bumps in the road that made it feel like things were doomed, but it never lasted too long. It all worked out in the end.

In the back of your mind you knew this day would come, the day that Dean was going to die. He was human like everyone else on this Earth, and there was only so many “get out of death” cards before he ran out. Closing the gates of hell was going to be a tricky process. You were still going into this with blind eyes, no idea what the outcome was for the person conducting them. But this wasn’t about that. This wasn’t about saving someone from hell or stopping the end of the world. All of this was about your child.

He was too insecure, too scared to think that all of you might live a decent life if he decided the trials were too much. He didn’t want to get himself too attached with the idea that the both of you could actually have a child. Because it was always that fear—that chance it all might blow up in his face where it ended with you suffering the same fate as everyone he loved. And it was more than just your life on the line now. This was now at a level where it surpassed the family he tried to have a few years ago. Unlike the Braden family, he wasn’t even bothering trying to make this work. He just wanted to jump feet first into an ending that he only knew because that felt safe. It worked every time. That’s what hurt worst of all. He didn’t even want to try.

“I knew he wasn’t going to take it well. I knew it was going to be hard. I-I was ready for the worst. But…not like this.” Your voice came out no louder than a hushed whisper, your head slowly shaking back and forth. You felt a sob beginning to grow in the back of your throat Your bottom lip began to quiver, and while you were able to bite back the scream you wanted to let out, you couldn’t stop the tears. “After everything we went through—how he could he do this to me, Sammy? How could he do this to us?”

Sam wished there was something that he could say or do anything to make you feel better. To make the look of heartbreak and vulnerability to disappear from your face. He wanted to find his brother and knock some sense into him. Beat the living crap out of him and get him to feel just an ounce of what you were feeling right now. Because what was going through his mind was nothing compared to what you were fighting not to let it get the best of you.

He understood that his brother was broken from all the things he was subjected to over the years that he never properly let himself heal from. Dean had to constantly fight tooth and nail to keep the few people that he wanted alive. All of you were like this from how you lived. The three of you were damaged, depressed with thoughts circling around the idea that things might turn out a bit better if they…well, died. All of you had turned down this destructive, self righteous path a few too many times. But for Dean to do it now? To turn his back on the woman he loved and his unborn child without a second thought? It wasn’t self righteous. It was selfish.

All Sam could to try and comfort you in the spare moment you had was to wrap his arms around your body and pull you close to him, trying to remind you that you weren’t alone in this. You would never be alone. Every part of you wanted to scream on the top of your lungs and break something with your bare hands. You wanted to find Dean and rip him apart, tell him everything that he was giving up. That he was no better than his father…how disappointed Bobby would be if he heard what the man had done to you. But you couldn’t. Not right now, at least. 

You composed yourself to the best of your ability and wiped away the tears, knowing you needed to swallow down every feeling you had and focus on what really mattered right now. Which was killing a hell hound. You inhaled a deep breath and put on your best poker face, trying to keep your concentration more on the anger you were feeling. If anything, it was better to want to rip someone’s throat out than sit down and start crying. It would lead to questions you didn’t want to answer.

You and Sam headed back to the living room where the Cassitys’ still remained handcuffed to the furniture where you left them. You grabbed one of the pair of glasses from Sam when he offered you after Dean burned them over with a fire made out of holy oil after what Kevin found on the tablet. This was your only chance at seeing a hell hound without feeling its claws digging into your skin to realize where it was. You wandered around the room to keep an eye out on the grounds, Sam occasionally looked over at the family to make sure they were fine. Well, best as a bunch of people who hated each other. 

“You sold your soul. Admit it.”

“Why the hell would you think that?”

“Cause you’re a walking corpse, and you’re married to a centerfold.” Cindy said, accusing her father for being the one who got his youngest daughter killed and putting them in this situation. “I did the math.”

“She likes money, and I’m rich. Do it again.” Noah defended himself. You rolled your eyes in frustration when he pointed his finger at the one he’d been bickering with all night. “You sing like crap, so explain the music career.”

“Hello—autotune!” Cindy shouted at her father, telling him the secret to her success, which only plummeted after her one-time success. It seemed not even technological advancements could stop her from joining the rest of whatever popstar they played on the radio these days.

“All right!” You turned away from the window to scold the two Cassitys’ that were driving you up the wall, to the point where it was making it hard not to punch either one of them in the face. Or throwing them outside to see which one the hound would go after to get this over with. “That’s enough.”

"Oh, is it, four-eyes?” Cindy asked in a sarcastic tone of voice, thinking it was a smart move on her part to bad mouth you. “Is it enough?”

“Really? What are you, six? Hell hound isn’t going to be your only problem tonight if you and Father Time over there keep it up.” You warned her. “I’ll kick your ass.”

“I don’t know why you even think one of us made a deal.” Noah said.

“Because you struck oil where there was no oil.” Sam told the older man. You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched him and Cindy try to think about it for a moment, not sure why it was such a big deal. You highly doubt they were that smart enough to understand why it might raise some suspicions.“That didn’t seem weird to you?”

“Margie.” Alice suddenly spoke up, her voice quiet as she spoke her late sister’s name. You looked over at her to see that she was doing everything in her power not to start crying because of all that was happening. You were in the same boat with her. She had some time to think about it, and unlike most of the family, it seemed her sister had a brain that was smart enough to bump the family up into the one percent. “Margie used to say that if we were rich, we’d all be happy.”

Noah scoffed underneath his breath, knowing what good it had done them. They might have got out of that crappy house they lived in for years, and had more money than they could ever think about spending in their lifetime, but they were still miserable. Margie sold her soul for it all to end with all of them detesting one another over the past decade. Money doesn’t solve problems, it just makes new ones. “Right. We’re the damn Waltons.”

You kept telling yourself that things could be worse when it came to how family turned out. You and the boys annoyed one another at times, and there were points where you drifted apart, but you always ended up back together. You never were gone for too long. Until now…where you were looking at the chance of finding your family staying at the odd number three, just someone opting out because he thought it was for best. Sort of like how Margie sold her soul to Crowley, because she thought it was going to make her family happy. If only they both realized that it was only going to end in misery. Sometimes the easy way out was the hardest.

\+ + +

Dean tucked the ultrasound picture into the left breast pocket of his jacket, subconsciously, it seemed that he wanted to keep the baby close to him. So it was next to his heart. Maybe it was sort of cheesy and made the ache in his chest hurt a little more, but it was a little reminder for why he was doing this in the first place. For this little innocent creature that wasn’t going to grow up to face the same fate he and their mother did. They were going to get a chance at a life he never had.

This baby was going to be raised by the two most important people in his life, their mother who would make sure they were safe and loved. And their Uncle Sam, who would make sure they were smart and had empathy. And prospered in life the way neither one of you could. 

Dean knew there wasn’t a chance he could raise this kid and have them turn out half decent. He drank too much, he was emotionally crippled. He lost his temper too often. There was a fear that he’d turn out to be like his father. Either brainwashing his kid to be exactly like him, or sheltering them too much to fear the outside world. And while not every part of him was telling him that he wouldn’t be a good father, the voice was loud enough to drown out the small piece of hope that it’d be okay. Dean didn’t want to take a chance. So he did what felt right, what he knew best.

Dean made his way into the barn when he felt a light drizzle starting to come down, giving him some shelter. He wasn’t sure where Ellie ended up after he politely declined her offer to spend a night together. He thought she might be around here, attending to the horses to occupy her time. But it seemed from the echoing music he heard coming from the other side made it seem like someone was having a party. Dean furrowed his brow slightly and began to walk down to the opposite end of the barn, hearing the noise grow louder, and coming from a shut door. He twisted the handle and slowly opened the door, peaking in slightly to see what was going on.

It seemed the music was coming from Ellie’s bedroom when he noticed the young woman dancing, enjoying herself while sipping on a beer, getting drunk by herself. Dean slipped himself inside when he noticed her back was to him, giving him a chance to turn off the music and taking her by surprise. When Ellie turned around to see who it was, a smile crept to the ends of her lips, her tipsy self thinking he was here for a more fun reason that what he was about to tell.

“Just in time.” Ellie whispered. “Knew you weren’t the settling down type.”

“Ellie, are you okay?” Dean asked in a concerned tone of voice.

“I’m great.” She reassured him. While she was much more in control of herself, the few beers that she had while he was gone had lowered her self control, giving her all the confidence she need to approach the man again. She placed her hands on his chest, feeling the muscles he gained from years of hunting. “And I bet you’re great.”

“Okay, listen…” Dean managed to push the woman away before she could kiss him like she had wanted. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, making him presume the reason why she was acting the way she was. Bold and daring. He slipped away from her, walking over to the window so he could look outside. “Whatever happens, whatever you hear, you need to stay in here with that door locked. Sit tight, okay? This is gonna sound crazy, but there is something evil out there.”

“I know.” Ellie’s response wasn’t what the older Winchester expected. He gave her a confused expression for what she meant by that. And just like that, she sobered up. She suddenly looked like she was terrified out of her mind, and doing everything not to cry. "It’s coming for me.”

\+ + +

Watching a bunch of people wasn’t exciting as one would expect it to be, you were all a bunch of sitting ducks, waiting for something to happen. Everyone remained rather quiet, showing no signs of hallucinations or fear from how things were progressing. You shifted your footing and let out a sigh, finding your concentration slowly losing focus on what was really important, and to the memory of Dean walking out the door. You wished you followed him out there, slapped him right across the face for being such a dick. Would it have changed anything? Probably not.

“I need to take a leak.” You were broken out from your thoughts at Noah’s request that came out of the blue. It seemed all the wine he drank at dinner finally caught up with him. You rolled your eyes at his needs, Sam told him to hold it. “Yeah, at my age? Not really an option, so either you let me go or get me a bottle.”

“You can pee yourself for all I care, old man.” You muttered underneath your breath. Your mood was shifting into anger now, anything was pissing you off more than it normally would. You let out a sigh when you heard the mention of going to the bathroom made you suddenly need to yourself. “Sammy, go get something. Nature’s calling for me, too.”

Sam didn’t want to comply with the old man’s request, but it was better than him relieving himself in front of you. He went to the kitchen to find something suitable while you made your way to the bathroom, stepping over the line of goofer dust, thinking a hell hound could wait five more minutes for you to pee before coming to collect the soul the owner wanted. You walked past a window, casually peering out of pure habit, presuming there wasn’t anything like the other dozen times tonight to keep your restless mind occupied. But right as you stepped out of safety, your eyes spotted a shadowy like figure in the distance, making you stop dead in your tracks.

You’d seen a hell hound plenty of times to recognize one when you saw it, the fear creeping into you the same way whenever you did come across one, the dreadful memories right along. You recalled the memories of claws digging into your own skin when you made a deal of your own. They were the reason why Jo and Ellen Harvelle were dead. And Dean was all out there by himself, with only a knife to defend himself. You let out a shaky breath, a sense of dread coming over you, not for your own safety, but for Dean. The memory of him being torn apart right in front of your eyes played in your mind, no how hard you tried to bargain his way out. Back when you thought death was the only way to solve your problems.

“Crap.” You let out a frustrated sigh from the urge that came over you, the one you were all too familiar with. The need to do the right thing and grab the man you loved for long as you could remember, the one who was stubborn headed and needed to be pulled back into the light. To be reminded that not everything needed to be the same outcome. You could do this and still live to see your hard work. You lightly brushed a hand across your stomach, feeling the subtle bump of the unborn child that you would do anything for. And their father they were going to see when they were born. "All right, kiddo. Hang on tight. Mommy’s about to do something stupid.”

Sam was preoccupied with his own trouble when he heard the front door slam shut after Alice somehow managed to sneak out of her handcuffs and try to make a run for it, still thinking all of you were a bunch of psychos here to rob and kill them. That’s when you made your move. You grabbed a shotgun loaded with rock salt and snuck out the back, keeping a close distance from the beast, you followed right behind it. You let the mutt lead you to the victim, knowing it wasn’t going to be the idiot who sold their soul that was going to die—but Crowley’s little bitch.

\+ + +

It came as a bit of a surprise to hear that Ellie was the one who booked herself a one way ticket to hell when she sold her soul to Crowley. People sold their souls for different reasons; money, fame, love. Possibly the most selfless act one could do was to save someone else. Ellie told him about what lead her to the Cassitys, her parents split up and her mother found a job working for the family, before they were rich. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was the best her mother could do to provide for her child. Ellie met Crowley on the same night the others did, after she spotted him kissing Margot, which explained why she was ripped apart by the hound.

Crowley might be a bastard, but if there was one thing that he was good at, it was selling people on their dreams nd glossing over the terms and conditions. It was a simple question of anything she could have wanted that made her Crowley’s next victim of the night. Her mother was sick, showing early signs of Parkinson’s disease. She didn’t want to see the woman who broke her back to suffer in such a terrible way. Ellie’s sold soul didn’t come with a bitter ending like the Cassitys, but more of a happy one that she was okay with. Her mother was retired and living in Phoenix, happy and healthy. Dean couldn’t help but think what she did was a stupid move. She didn’t think so from what she snapped back at him with.

“I did it for my mom, Dean. What would you do for your mom?”

Dean felt the jab hit a little too close to an open wound that made him wince. He might not be able to do anything for his mother who had been dead for over two decades now, but there was someone else that he’d do anything for. And has. Ellie knew she wasn’t going to see the pearly gates when she died, but it seemed Crowley let out the small detail about how when someone sells their soul they don’t get to live very long. The devil was in the details. Ellie was scared out of her mind, but she was trying to make best with the situation that she made for herself. She wanted to go out with one last hooray, thinking her fate was sealed to end like it had like Margot and Carl. But it wasn’t going to if Dean could do something about it.

Dean made his way back into the barn and slipped his glasses back on, knowing the beast had to be around here somewhere. He looked around every corner and room that he could find until he made his way back to the wide open door he came in. He stood there for a few moments, wondering if these glasses even worked, but it seemed Kevin’s theory was proven to be right at what he saw. It was a hell hound, the beast he could only see once before. Dean had no intention of letting the mutt be the winner here in this fight.

“Oh, so you’re Crowley’s bitch. I get pets really do look like their owners.” Dean mocked the beast. It seemed the hound wasn’t in the particular mood to go in straight for the kill when he saw it run to the left, hiding behind a few stacks of hay to watch the man and make its move. But he was too impatient to play a game of hunter and hell hound. “What are you waiting for? Come and get it!”

The man tightened his grip around the demon knife and got himself ready to take down the beast like he intended. But it was something small as a horse becoming spooked at something that distracted Dean, making him wonder if Crowley had sent more than one hell hound to finish the job. That’s when the hound jumped out from its hiding spot, attacking the man when he wasn’t looking, its claws slashing across Dean’s torso, making him accidentally drop the knife to the ground. Everything after that happened all at once. Dean found himself flying across the way, something painful breaking his fall before he fell to the ground. He tried his hardest to recover quickly from the surprise jump that knocked the glasses right off his face, the only thing he had to see the beast to make this a fair fight. Dean spotted them, but they were too far away to get.

Dean tried his hardest to get himself back up to his feet, but the wound he sustained was enough to draw blood, and make it painful to move. He was about to do everything in his power to get the knife and finish the fight like he intended, but it seemed the hound had other plans. Dean might not be able to see the beast, but he could hear the low growling getting closer, its paw prints in the dirt as it approached him. Dean was ready to make a move to try and get himself out of this one, not taking into consideration that he had back up coming his way. The kind he didn’t ask for. And would rather die than see out here trying to save his ass.

The hell hound let out a whining noise after it was shot by something that made it bleed and back off the man, setting its eyes on who shot them. Before they do attack, another shot went off, making it back off the man. You lowered your gun and watched as it darted away, giving you a small window to make this work. You spotted the knife lying on the ground in perfect distance for you to do what you needed. Without thinking a second more about it, you dropped the gun and made a run for it, throwing yourself down to the ground and grabbing the knife. You managed to grab the handle and roll yourself onto your back, getting ready for the fight.

You saw the hell hound come running forward when it saw you appear like a prey waiting to lie down and die. But you had no intention of dying. Somehow, using all the strength that you had, you fended off the hound from letting it rip your throat out. The beast tried its hardest to get at you, barking and growling, pushing itself to kill you. But you were quick and swift. You roughly stabbed the hound with the knife, hearing the satisfying noise of pain, you began to cut the knife through its flesh. You let out a noise of disgust from feeling what you were expecting—a copious amount of blood spilling out from the beast, and landing all over you.

You didn’t expect a hell hound’s blood to be black and rather cold, but what else to expect from a product of hell? You pushed off the dead corpse and looked down at yourself, seeing all of your clothes were drenched, sticking rather uncomfortably to your body. You inhaled a few deep breaths when the reality of things started to creep in on you. You slowly titled your head upwards to see that Dean was okay. You could tell from the…horrified, saddened expression on his face from what he witnessed. But you didn’t care.

“What did you do?” You heard a voice coming from in front of you, bringing your attention to who might else had gotten free and stumbled upon this frightful sight. It was Sam, who had been running around like a mad man trying to find you, only to stumble upon a sight that made his heart stop. He stared at you with a terrified expression and eyes slightly wide, thinking all the things he said had come true. Only he realized that it wasn’t yours, but the hound that you killed. You were the one who completed the first trial, not his brother. “Y/N…what did you do?”

It felt disgusting moving from how the clothes were clinging to your body due to the blood, making it feel as if you were carrying around extra weight. You managed to push yourself up to your feet on your own, with no help from anyone. "I did what had to be done.” You said, looking at both of the brothers with a defiant expression from how hard they tried to hold you back. You threw the knife to the ground in Dean’s direction, making sure to look at him straight in the eye after saving his life. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You brushed past the younger man, ignoring the looks he was giving you from the danger you put yourself through. No matter what they told you. No matter what happened, this was never going to end with Dean taking it all on his shoulders alone. Even if you had to be the one who took it from him to show the man how it really was going to end.

\+ + +

You might not have been able to save Carl or Margot from their fate, but Ellie was going to live to see another day. You helped clean Dean’s wounds he sustained that seemed like it was worthy of taking a trip to the hospital. But you learned after a while that Dean would get by, even if he had to duct tape the wound and suffer. You’d do a better job when you got back to the bunker. Right now it would have to do until you got back to the bunker and properly stitched up his wounds. Right now your main priority was to get Ellie the hell out of here and somewhere safe before Crowley could find out he was about to be one soul short.

“So, what now?” Ellie asked.

“Now we make a hex bag, and you start running. If Crowley can’t find you, then he won’t be able to sick another mutt on you.” Dean told her. She was able to breathe a little easier knowing that she wasn’t going to die tonight. You were leaning against the dresser, still in the clothes soaked in the hound’s blood, a constant reminder for what happened tonight. And for the conversation that still needed to be mentioned. “Sam, go take care of Ellie. Make sure she gets off okay.”

Sam felt a little hesitant about leaving you and his brother alone with the elephant still in the room, and tension running high from the last spoken words to each other. You nodded your head in reassurance that things would be okay while he was gone. Sam made his way out with Ellie, getting her prepared for the rest of her life to be on the lamb from the king of hell. While his brother was confident that things would turn out fine, you weren’t as hopeful. You scoffed when Dean outstretched his arm and waved for you to fork over the jacket you were wearing that was covered in the hound’s blood.

"While I’m always happy to help stick it to the son of a bitch,” You spoke up, clutching the jacket tighter so he couldn’t have it. “You gotta know that even if she can dodge Crowley, as soon as she dies, her soul is earmarked for hell.”

“Not if we shut it down first.” Dean replied back.

“The spell’s not gonna work for you, Dean.” You warned the man when you saw him take out a piece of paper from his pocket with the spell written down. Dean ignored you and chanted the words and waited a moment or two for something to happen, but nothing did. “See? Told you.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll track down another hell hound, and I’ll kill it.” Dean said. He thought it was going to be that easy, that his word was law all of a sudden. You let out a sigh and simply told him no. He looked over at you with disbelief at how you were fighting him about this. “Y/N, I didn’t pass the test.”

“But I did.” You said. You pushed yourself off the dresser and took a few steps forward to him, about to say the words that he didn’t want to hear. “And I’m doing the rest of them.”

“My ass you are!” Dean argued with you about the idea that sounded like the most stupidest thing you could have said. You tilted your head to the side and raised your brow slightly, knowing what he wanted to do wasn’t any better. It seemed he was starting to understand what you were feeling now. He let out a sigh and dropped his act, letting his expression drop to show you what he was really feeling since he saw you put yourself in danger to save his life. “Y/N, you can’t do this.”

“Let me ask you something, and please—please, be honest with me.” You stressed your words to him, preparing the both of you from what you were about to bring up. You bit the inside of your cheek before hesitantly asking him the question you feared your answer to for all these weeks since you found out. “Dean…do you not want to be a father?”

Dean found himself taken back by your question that you asked with so much fear in your voice, it made him slowly grow a smile, like you were expecting the worst out of him. To think that he wasn’t freaking out in a good way. But walking out on you when you told him might have to do something with it. He took a few steps forward until he was standing next to you. You felt him lightly grab a hold of your wrist so your hand was resting on his own, which was lying palm down on your stomach, to feel the little bump. You furrowed your brow slightly from his action.

“Y/N, this is the best thing anyone has ever told me. We’re having a kid. I didn’t think this was ever gonna happen.” Dean admitted to you, his lips stretching into a smile. You swore for a second you saw him look…happy, genially happy. Ecstatic at what was going to happen. But it only lasted for a moment. “And you know why I have to be the one who does this. Not you.” You scoffed to yourself and ripped yourself from his grip, wanting to get away from him far as possible. You knew it was too good to be true. “Sweetheart, every part of me wishes that this could work. I want this much as you do. But…I can’t raise a kid.”

“What about Ben? He wasn’t even your own kid, and, yeah, things didn’t end on good terms, but you did a pretty damn good job. And what about Bobby John? You were ready to raise him with me!” You reminded him of the time just a few short years ago about the shifter baby that fell into your lap. You couldn’t take it anymore from how he was acting. “I’m closing the gates of hell. It’s a suicide mission for you.”

Dean rolled his eyes from how you wouldn’t let this go, “Y/N—” 

“You don’t think I want to slam shut hell much as you do? I’d do anything to make that happen. But I want to survive. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you have your own room now.” You hoped that pointing out the small things could get him to realize how much he was throwing away if he did this. Your lips stretched into a faint smile, but it still wasn’t enough for him to snap out of his thoughts. "I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I’m sorry you don't—I am. But it’s there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it.”

“Y/N,” Dean let out a sigh. You could see that it was killing him for the way he was acting, but he thought it was for the best outcome for everyone in the grand scheme of things. “Be smart.”

“I am smart, so is Sammy. So are you. We all are. You’re not a grunt, Dean. You’re a freaking genius—when it comes to lore, to kicking ass out there. You’re the best damn hunter I have ever seen. And you know what else you’re going to be good at? Being a father. Because you did it before. You raised Sam on your own. And he turned out pretty damn good.” You said. You tried your hardest to try and read the emotions on his face, hoping that he was coming around to the idea. You were breaking him down, hesitantly making him see the future that you knew he wanted to be apart of. “It’s not about us anymore, Dean. This kid is gonna need the both of us to raise them right. And…I can’t do this without you.”

You knew it was going to be like pulling teeth for him to agree on the terms you were setting, and the reality of things that he was still trying to come to terms with. He swallowed slightly and looked down at the little bump. “If you love me much as you say you do, you’ll stop treating me like a little girl. You know that I need to be the one who does this. Same reason why it was you who killed Yellow Eyes and Sam threw himself in the cage to stop Lucifer. I’m doing this for us. I want everything you promised me. I want to get married and I want a family. But on our terms. So…trust me. The way I’ve always done for you. It’s my turn to do the right thing for us”

You knew it was killing him on the inside from how this night turned out, and it was only going to get worse when you outstretched your hand for the spell. Every instinct was telling him not to do it, but the way you were looking at him and what you said couldn’t stop him any longer. You let out a sigh of relief when you got the spell so you could get started on what lead you here in the first place. Kevin’s warning about the trials was enough for someone to get scared off. But you were ready for whatever God wanted to throw at you.

You chanted the words over the bowl of the hell hound’s blood like you were instructed to and waited a moment for something to happen to let you know that you did this right. The ground to start shaking, the lights rapidly flickering until they broke from whatever supernatural force that came about from what you had done. But nothing could have prepared you from what really happened.You furrowed your brow slightly from what felt to be a warm, tingling sensation began to spread around your body, it was nothing you quite experienced before.

Slowly, the feeling began to grow…stronger. Almost as it was getting worse. You tried your hardest to act as if it wasn’t bothering you too much. You turned around so you could do this alone, not sure how much longer you could take it. You outstretched your arm to lean yourself against something when you felt yourself growing slightly weaker, but it ended with you accidentally stumbling to your knees. Dean called out your name in a concerned tone from what he was seeing unfold right in front of his eyes, and didn’t have a single clue what was going on.

You had to bite your bottom lip hard as you could from the sudden pain you felt being shifted to your arm that was holding the piece of paper. You looked down to see something was happening, the veins in your arm appeared as if they were…glowing bright white. You clenched your fists and worked through the pain that was slowly starting to ease up. After a few more seconds, you felt yourself slowly going back to normal, letting you let out a breath from what you just went through. You heard Dean speak your name one again, wanting some kind of sign that you were alive. Slowly, you pushed yourself back up to your feet.

“I’m good. I’m okay.“ You reassured the man. The look on his face told you a very much different story. You lips stretched into a smile. "I can do this, Dean. Don’t worry.”

\+ + +

Dean hated it when he didn’t have control. He always had to be the one who be the one who told others what to do, who drove the Impala and killed the monster. Who, just a few hours ago, was ready to put his life on the line to make sure his family was safe. But it seemed that the tables had turned. He sat in the passenger side of the Impala while his brother was behind the wheel, you were going to be the one who does the trials. And he was going to be a father. Dean examined the ultrasound picture in the darkness while all of you headed back home, his mind still trying to comprehend what was happening. He felt like he was floating in midair, and all he wanted to do was get his two feet back down on the ground.

Sam’s eyes wandered away from the empty road and to the rear view mirror, where he caught you in your rightful spot in the backseat, sleeping peacefully from the exhausting night you had been put through. He never wanted any of this to come out the way that it did, but the cat was out of the bag. Sam looked over at his brother to see he was still staring at his unborn child, the one he knew about for the past few weeks. Dean, rightfully, lost it when he heard about the story about how all of this came to be.

The story about how all of this started when Cas came back from Purgatory, a name change from Crowley raised your suspension and the angel told you the news. How Benny knew, and Sam had his suspicions, until he found out himself right when he was about to make the biggest decision of his life. How you accidentally told Charlie while you told her about yourself, and told Dean when you tried to talk him off the edge. You were nearly four months pregnant and you were about to close the gates of hell. Sam could understand why his brother was looking a little nervous. All of you were charting into unknown territory, and it was more than just your life on the line if this went work. And there was the after part when you completed the trials. When your lives were going to have an extra family member that was going to change things for the better.

“So,” Sam spoke up for the first time since all of you left the Cassity residence. He made sure to keep his voice down to a whisper so he wouldn’t wake you. “How are you feeling?”

Dean set down the picture on his lap, his hand covering it up so he would keep it safe. He thought for a second about what his response was going to be, but he found himself lost for words. “Honestly? I’ve got no freaking clue. My life just got turned upside down. Feels like I’m in freaking space, man.”

“Yeah. I felt like that after she told me.” Sam agreed. It always had been just the three of you together, the dynamics seemed like it was going to be the same. No chance the bloodline was going to get another generation, no hope that things might turn out okay. But here all of you were. Everything you ever wanted happening all at once. Sam looked over at his brother, knowing there was something that he’d been wanting to say. “Look, I knew I should’ve told you sooner. But it felt…wrong. This was between you and Y/N. She was scared to tell you in the first place.”

“And I reacted like a complete dick and look at where it ended us.” Dean said. Sam let out a sigh from what he heard his brother say, feeling partly responsible for how things turned out. Dean didn’t think it was anyone’s fault. “It’s Y/N. We could put her halfway across the world and she’d still find a way to get what she wanted.”

Sam chuckled quietly, “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“Very true, little brother. But it’s why we keep her around.” Dean said. The boys found themselves smiling for the first time in the past few days, considering all of what happened and the news that broke, it felt good. Dean looked over his shoulder best as he could, catching sight of your sleeping face that seemed like the best thing that he saw. “Hey, Sammy. If…something happens to me, I need you to promise me—”

“Dean, don’t.” Sam cut off his brother. He looked away from the road for a second to give the older man a scolding like glare from what he thought was about to be brought up. “I don’t like the fact that Y/N is doing the trials. Hell, you can blame me for not keeping a better eye on her. But we don’t know if we can do this again—”

“I need you to promise if something happens to me down the line, you’ll keep an eye on them.” Dean finished what he was trying to say, knowing it had nothing to do with the trials. “I know she’s gonna do it. End of story. But…I have to think about the future. I’m not gonna be around forever. I want to know that you’ll make sure that Y/N and the baby are gonna have someone to make sure they’re okay.”

“Of course.” Sam reassured his brother. “You know I will.”

It was a morbid topic that nobody wanted to discuss, but life as a hunter, neither one of you knew what was going to wait for you on the next hunt. It was always a guessing game for anything that might happen. Dean looked down at the picture, and for the first time, let himself grow a smile at the sight of the little being that would be here in a little over five months. Sometimes…good things

happen to Dean Winchester. And he was going to make sure this one good thing stayed with him. He was going to be the best damn father he could be. Because you were right. He raised Sam all on his own, and while the kid was a pain in his ass, the man didn’t turn out half bad.

\+ + +

You had never been more happier in your life than to be back home, where you could relax and forget about everything that unfolded over the past few days. You treated yourself to a long, hot shower even though you took one right before you left the Cassity’s to get rid of the hell hound’s blood off your skin. You wanted to treat yourself with things you missed, after all, you deserved a little R and R. And you wanted to avoid the conversation that you knew was bound to happen. You just wanted to bask in the glory that you achieved, and wait to talk about the cat that was officially out of the bag. Dean knew about everything. And while he reassured you that he was happy with what was happening, you still weren’t sure how he felt about all of this. Your mind was focused on the fact that he walked out on you…

You were in the library by yourself while Sam was in his room, leaving you to enjoy one of the books you found on the shelves that seemed like it was about lore and a cup of tea you made for yourself. You weren’t exactly where Dean wandered off to, he mentioned something about needing to make a supply run in town. Which was probably his code word of going to the bar to kick back and have a few beers, wrap his mind around the fact that he was going to be a father. And you were going to be the one who was doing the trials. As if he thought things couldn’t get worse. They always did.

You flipped to another page in the book while you reached for your cup, getting ready to take another sip before it could get too cold. Right before it could touch your lips, you found yourself stopping in your tracks, the sound of the record player turning on all by itself. You furrowed your brow slightly and looked up, knowing Sam wasn’t the type to sneak up on you like this without saying something. You turned your head to see it was none other than Dean, he used one hand to get the voice of Billie Holiday to start playing through the library, the other was hidden in front of him. You set down the book and watched as he walked over to you, not saying a single word, with something hiding behind his back.

Dean pulled out what appeared to be a book of some kind and placed it down on the table in front of you. You looked down to see that it was a grayish color with little white triangles, and in the far bottom right corner, the words "Hello little one!” written in cursive. It took you a few seconds to realize what it was that Dean had given you. You ran your fingers over the cover, the thing that parents used to keep track of the baby’s progress in the first year of their lives. You had one of your own. Dean had one. Sam, too, for the first six months of his life. It was a baby keepsake book. You found yourself staring back up at him, not sure what this meant, at least, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But it was.

“I promised you that I’d do anything you want if something like this happened. And I will. You’re never gonna be alone on this, sweetheart.” You want to raise this kid and close the gates of hell? You got it.” Dean said. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, but you could tell that it was the truth. You felt your lips stretching into a smile at how he was coming around to all of this, a sense of relief coming over you. The weeks of anxiety and worrying seemed to vanish from your mind. Because if there was something you knew about him, it was that Dean loved you. And he never went back on his word. “Now…can I ask a pretty lady to dance?”

You gave him a bit of a funny look from what he was asking, “Really? In all of my years knowing you I’ve never seen you dance before.”

“Yeah. But I didn’t think in my entire life I’d be a father. Things change, sweetheart.” Dean said. You felt him grab your hand and pull you out of your seat, his enthusiasm making you break out into a smile. “Now, come on. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

You didn’t protest when you heard the song switch to one of your personal favorites, “The Man I Love.” The both of you found an empty spot in the library and attempted to find a comfortable position, making sure to mind his wounds that you still needed to clean. You rested your head on his shoulder and felt him wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. As if he was reminding you that he was never going to let you go. You slowly shut your eyes as the both of you moved to the rhythm of the music, never wanting this feeling to end.

\+ + +

it came as no surprise when Dean found himself unable to sleep during the first night back in the bunker. He laid in bed next to you for a few hours, listening to the sounds of your breathing, its steadiness reassuring him that you were fast asleep. He slowly sat up in bed to see that you were lying on your back with your head to the side. You looked content. But Dean wasn’t up because he wanted to watch you sleep. His eyes wandered over your body, before stopping at your stomach. He realized the baby was never introduced to their father.

Dean was going to feel stupid if you woke up and saw him leaning over your barely there belly. But it felt like the right thing to do. “Hey, kid. It’s your dad. I don’t know if Mom talks about me a lot. But I didn’t know about you until yesterday.” He was trying his hardest to talk in a whispering voice that even he could barely hear, but he abruptly stopped when he swore he heard you moving around, you remained as you were, having no clue what was he was doing. “I kinda freaked out when I heard about you. And I’m sorry. It was stupid.”

Feeling he was going to be here for a while, Dean got himself comfortable before continuing on. “I had a dad that wasn’t around a lot for me. At least not when I really needed him…I’m not gonna be like that. I promise. I’m gonna be there for you, kid. No matter what. And I’m going to try my hardest to be a good dad to you. If I suck, at least you’ll have a cool family. I bet you met Uncle Sammy. And Uncle Cas, too. He told us about you. He’s not around a lot lately, and sometimes Uncle Sam and I might be gone for a few days, too. But that’s okay. Because you know what you’re going to have? An awesome mom who loves you more than anything.”

Dean let out a quiet sigh, his mind drifting back to your peaceful and sleeping face, and how just twenty four hours ago signed yourself up for something that was dangerous. Not only to yourself, but for the little being you were carrying. “Listen…things are about to get a little bumpy. I don’t know how much you can feel in there, but if you do get scared, don’t worry. Mom’s just doing something important—for you. She wants to make sure you have a happy and safe life. But Uncle Sam and I are going to be with the both of you every step of the way. I promise. So…hang in there, kid. Please.”

Because Dean wanted so desperately to see all of this work out in the end. He wanted to see hell locked up for good and you to get the revenge that you always wanted. He wanted to see his kid be born into a world that was a little less evil, so they could grow up with the option to be whatever they wanted. Most importantly, he wanted to give you the life he promised you. Dean crawled his way back into bed and rested his head against the pillow, curling up to his wife to be and future kid, falling asleep with a bit of hope that maybe things would turn out okay.


	14. Man's Best Friend With Benefits.

Arguments were nothing new for the Winchester boys; there was always something quietly bubbling to the surface that lead to countless fights whenever it boiled over. You tuned them out most of the time until things turned nasty and they tried to go below the belt. While you were trying to catch up on sleep during the ride to your next and unexpected hunt, you were woken up to the sounds of them going on about something. You tried your hardest to ignore them for long as possible, but from they were starting to really go at it, it sounded important. It wasn’t about any of the usual subjects that caused a wedge between them. When you grew tired of their arguing and asked them what possibly could have been causing their disagreement, their reasoning made you want to haul off and smack them.

You told them to put a cork in it if they knew what was good for them when you saw the motel you booked for the next few nights come into view. You gotten a moment’s peace when you got the keys to your rooms that you had every intention of crashing onto the bed after you took a hot shower. You were already missing the comfort of your own bed. You were exhausted and still in recovery mode after doing the first trial, being pregnant and still dealing with the lingering effects of morning sickness wasn’t helping you, either. But you weren’t going to miss out hunts. There was no way you were going to let the boys think you couldn’t handle both.

“This has to be one of the stupidest things I’ve heard you to argue about. And I’ve heard a lot of crap over the years.” You stepped out from the backseat of the Impala and grabbed your bag by the strap to pull it out and dangle by your side. The boys followed suit, wanting to keep this thing going after you warned them to drop it. “They were a bunch of grown men that poked each other in the eyes and couldn’t go five seconds without accidentally hitting one another with something. Nothing about them were funny. They all acted the same.“

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. They’re comedy gold. Even to this day their work is a classic.” Dean tried to defend the conversation him and his brother had been going on about. You rolled your eyes in annoyance from how hard he was trying to make sound more important than it was. “But it’s all about who the funniest one is. And Sammy, of all the the lame-ass things he’s ever said, has proven himself that what just came out of his mouth is the lame-assiest.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He grabbed his bag from the backseat while you were making your way to your room, getting a head start while the boys were left to continue on with this stupid argument. “but I happen to think that Shemp was a funnier Stooge than Curly.” 

“Curly was a freaking genius!” Dean continued to defend the Stooge he thought was funnier.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “I always found Curly’s work a bit obvious.”

“It’s supposed to be obvious, man.” Dean said. “They’re Stooges.”

You unlocked the door to your motel room and stepped inside, departing ways with the younger Winchester after he made his own room that was right next to yours. You flipped on the light switch to the two star room that was going to be your home away from home over the next how many days that you were going to be here. All though motels were almost the only thing close to a roof over your head that wasn’t on wheels for years after you started hunting, you had gotten so used to the bunker over these past few weeks that you were starting to get home sick.

Nevertheless, a bed was a bed. And for someone who was exhausted, seeing the queen size mattress was the best thing to be greeted with after the long drive you had. Heading over, you set your bag down on the bed while Dean shut the door behind him, giving the both of you privacy. You unzipped the bag and began to rummage through your belongings until you found a bottle of prenatal vitamins buried in the bottom on top of all your clothing you accidentally forgot to take this morning before you left for the day’s long drive.

“So, are we calling James tonight?” You asked, wondering what the plan was.

“No. I’ll just call him tomorrow. The drive was a bitch.” Dean muttered. You hummed in agreement and twisted off the cap to the bottle, shaking out one pill and dropping it into the palm of your hand. As you were about to dry swallow the pill, you felt a smile grow at the ends of your lips when you felt an arm snake around your waist and your back pressed against his body. You felt his hand was resting on top of your stomach, a part of your body he seemed to be obsessed with over the past few days. "I want to spend tonight with the both of you.”

It’d only been a few days since you told Dean that he was going to be a father and he had been handling it better than you thought he was going to…after the mishap. You gained control of the situation when he felt himself spiraling down a path that was all too common, thinking it was his job to do the trials that had only one outcome. But you beat him to it. And while he didn’t like what you had done, he was getting his revenge on you by watching you like a hawk. He was going to make sure everything went smoothly for you and the baby. And you knew he was keeping an eye out for any excuse to pull you back on the sidelines and do the trials.

While Dean was wrapping his head around everything that was happening, he didn’t understand how he was left in the dark for so long. Sam figured it out a few weeks after you did, and wasted no time in confronting you about it. You managed to conceal the morning sickness best as possible and blamed it on a stomach bug here and there. But it was the other red flags that he never caught on to from how you ditched alcohol and avoided caffeine. Your mood swings and sudden disgust for certain smells of food that ended with you making up some lie that you were going vegetarian. Dean guessed he was gonna have to make some changes for himself.

“I wonder what he wanted.” You thought out loud as to the reason why all of you were called here in the first place.

“Well, his text said that he needed help.” Dean said. “He’s a cop. I figured it was work-related.”

"Yeah, well, Sam says you owe him. You met him all the way back in ‘09 or something?” You tried to remember what the younger Winchester had told you about how he met this James after you asked about him. “All I know it was when we weren’t hunting together.”

“The guy saved our lives once, sweetheart.” Dean said. He had been against the hunt ever since he got the text and made the mistake of mentioning it to you and his brother. He thought he could have Sam take a solo hunt, but you dug your nails into the hunt and offered up the idea that it wouldn’t hurt to look into. "I mean, it’s not like the guy—”

“Saved your life?” You finished the man’s sentence you had a feeling where it was leading to. You raised your brow slightly and smiled when you waited for him to try and correct you, his tongue pressing against his cheek made him realize how he backed himself into a corner here. “Come on. It’s good karma.”

“Yeah. Something like that. I’m gonna go for a beer run. You need anything?” Dean offered up to get anything you might need while away from home. “Feeling any cravings again? You want me to pick up a jar of pickles and a pint of ice cream? Heard that’s what pregnant women like.“

“First off, gross. That’s a total stereotype.” You said. You felt your nose scrunch up slightly at the thought of enjoying two foods that you enjoyed together in a combination of taste that even just the thought of was making your stomach feel uneasy. “And second, weird cravings don’t start for another few weeks. I heard they show up around the fourth month.”

"Really? Because this morning I caught you eating Cheetos and strawberry yogurt in bed.” Dean said. You slowly drifted your gaze away from him, pretending not to know what he was talking about “And you seemed to be enjoying yourself, considering you went through half of a family sized bag and two containers of yogurt.”

“I was craving something cheesy and a little bit sweet. Oh! You know what I could totally go for right now? Cherry pie—with canned whip cream.” You found yourself becoming tempted to indulge in another craving while you and Dean talked about food. All though you hated the smell of any kind of meat, which meant he was going to miss out on bacon cheeseburgers, you found yourself growing a stronger sweet tooth. And a desire to have Dean’s favorite dessert. You softly patted your stomach. “What baby wants, baby gets.”

“Cherry pie, coming right up. Is there anything else the baby wants? Maybe some ice cream? Some more rest? Possibly heading back to the bunker and let Sam handle this one? Dean turned the conversation back around to the one you had right before you left. You rolled your eyes in frustration and told him for what felt to be the thousandth time that you were fine. Dean wasn’t convinced. “You sure? 'Cause you did just gank a hell hound, which is no slice of pie, and there is a minefield of who knows what crap ahead. Just want to make sure that you are okay…considering the fact that you’ve got an extra passenger along for the ride.”

You felt your nails digging into the fabric of the shirt you pulled out from the bag from the subtle way he was speaking to you. You forced yourself to inhale a deep breath and exhale all the rush of anger you felt from the way Dean was treating you. Turning your head, you forced your lips to stretch into a convincing smile. “I know. They’ve been along with me for the past few months on every hunt, too. And they’re still going strong.”

“I know. I just want you to know that the option of us finding another devil dog is still on the table.” Dean thought he was smooth about trying to persuade to change your mind about doing the trials. but it was only making you more pissed off. You scoffed and placed a hand on your hip, at least letting him entertain the thought before shutting him down. “You tag out. I could snuff the son of a bitch. Mom and baby are okay.”

"Dean, for the last time—I’m pregnant, not helpless. I know what I’m doing. Like I told Sam after he found out, I’ve went up against a lot of monsters and we’re still going strong. There’s nothing stopping me from completing the trials and having this child.” You said. You were trying to say just about anything to get Dean to understand that you were more than capable of doing this, if he eased up on the constant need to be in control than he would see. “Besides, Kevin doesn’t even know what the next trial is yet. I know you’re worried. And you have every right to be. But…relax. The baby and I are safe. We’ll be ready.”

Dean wanted so hard to let himself believe that you were capable of doing this, it was the fact that you were carrying his child and in such a compromising position that was making him tense. But it was more than just that. You knew it was, “It took Kevin a while to figure out the first trial. What happens if he figures it out and you’re…” Dean made a gesture with his hand, waving it in a slightly curved angle. You furrowed your brow slightly from what he was trying to do. “Starting to show more? You just gonna do it no problemo?”

“Fine. I’ll make a deal with you. Kevin doesn’t figure out the next trial by the time the fifth month rolls around, I will happily let you take over and do this.” You said, giving into the man’s paranoia. You saw the ends of Dean’s lips dare so twitch into a little victorious smirk. But you weren’t done bargaining. “If you agree that you won’t pull that whole kamikaze crap again.”

“I told you I was in this with you. With everything.” Dean said. You narrowed your eyes slightly on him, knowing there wasn’t complete truth. He inhaled a deep breath and thought about the little deal. There was a chance that this might work out in his favor. It took Kevin a while to even figure out the first trial. Dean only needed a little over a month, or at least for you to come to senses about all of this was a bad idea. “All right. Deal.”

“Okay, Winchester. If we don’t hear anything by April than we find ourselves another little doggy for you to play with.” You said. You knew you were risking the once chance at doing something that would do the world a favor, to make sure your child had a life that wasn’t like yours. Dean was more than capable of doing this, but you needed to be the one who did it. For reasons that he would never understand. “Just try not to miss like you did last time. I would hate to save your ass again.”

Dean found himself stopping in his tracks at your subtle remark. He looked over his shoulder to see you give him a smile, your snarky personality was enough to show him you were in fact good health. You made sure to remind him not to forget the pie before he headed out to the convenience store a few minutes away. You grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms and a shirt from your bag, deciding to treat yourself to a hot shower.

As you were gathering up your belonging and shower essentials, you found yourself quietly humming to fill the silence. You headed to the bathroom and were only a few steps away, until you heard something…odd. You stopped humming and stood still for a moment to see if you might be able to hear the noise again. It was coming from the motel door. And it sounded like someone was scratching their nails on the wood. You felt your breathing stop for a second when you swore it sounded like dog nails clawing at your door.

Could it be…? But how? You were hidden from all demons and hell hounds from the hex bags you carried for for an extra precaution. There was no way Crowley knew where you were at this very second, and there was no way he’d try to send another one of his dogs your way after what you did.. And wouldn’t the hound break down the door down without a second? Unless it was taunting you, wanting you to get scared for a second before brushing it off. Sure, Crowley didn’t like to get his hands dirty and rather send a demon to do his bidding. Unless it was a matter that had to do with something about shutting him into the pit for good. Maybe that might be a good excuse to get off his ass. You dropped your clothes to the bed and grabbed the demon knife.

Heading over to the door, you slowly turned back the lock and twisted the handle, all before cracking open the door just the slightest. You tightened your grip around the handle of the knife and peered out to see what was making the noise. Nobody human was standing on the sidewalk, neither was it a hell hound. But it was a pooch. You felt yourself letting out a sigh of relief when a doberman pinscher was sitting on the ground. You opened up the door wider and smiled at the dog, presuming that it might have ran away from its owner. But you didn’t see a leash, or another human soul in sight when you peered around the parking lot.

The dog might have been lost, but it had no trouble making itself at home. You were too slow when you saw the dog go running into the motel room, right past you and jumped right on the bed that you were planning on sleeping in. You knew this was going to pose a problem. And you had little time to solve this before Dean got back. You tucked the knife into the back of your jeans and did the only thing you saw fit, you got Sam to help you. Knocking on the man’s door, you waited only a few seconds before you heard the lock switch back in place and the door swung open. You gave him a small smile and told him, “We have a problem.”

Sam’s first thought that something was wrong, and there very much was when he saw the dog sitting on your bed. You had only minutes until Dean returned, which meant you needed to get the dog out of here and into Sam’s room before his brother found out there was even a canine anywhere near where he was about to sleep. Sam approached the dog and held out his hand, smiling at the animal to see if it was friendly. The dog didn’t bark or bite at the man when he put out his hand to get it to stiff him as an attempt to engage contact, making you realize that the dog was friendly and at least somewhat trained.

"Hey. You friendly? Friendly. Good. All right. You’re a pretty dog.” Sam found himself smiling at the dog when she began to play with him, rolling over to her stomach and put her legs up in the air, demanding attention from him. You couldn’t help yourself but grow a smile of your own at how he happily engaged in the dog’s need for affection. “Oh, really? You want a little belly scratch, huh?”

“You’re having a little too much fun, Sammy.” You teased the younger man from how he was acting. You headed over to the dog and began to pet her yourself, your smile growing even wider at how affectionate she was. You attempted to see if there was any sort of tags on her that might indicate an address of the owner, or at least a name you could call her. “So, who do you belong to? Uh…great. No tags. Great. What are you doing here, girl? Someone’s got to be missing you.”

You thought it was going to be complicated enough in trying to get her out of here and into Sam’s room for the night before you could come up with some sort of explanation for how to keep the dog here for tonight without Dean saying no. And speaking of the devil, you heard the familiar sound of a rumbling engine and a pair of headlights shine straight into the window, making you realize that Dean was back earlier than you hoped. You and Sam looked over at one another, knowing there was no time for you to get the dog out of here without Dean figuring out what was going on.

You and Sam headed out the the front door and back onto the motel parking lot, making sure to shut the door behind you quick as you could when you saw Dean approaching. He was holding a six pack of beer in one hand, and a plastic bag in the other. You pressed your back against the door and crossed your arms over your chest, giving the man a too big of a smile while Sam greeted the man in a friendly voice. Dean gave the both of you a bit of a suspicious look from how you were acting. The older man attempted to get into the motel room, making your smile drop and the panic you felt moments ago come back in.

“Okay, okay, okay. Before you get pissed off, look, I just want you to know this isn’t my fault. She just showed up at the door, okay? I couldn’t let her run off. I mean, have you this this place? Who knows what kind of freaks are running around here.“ You tried your hardest for Dean to understand what you had done, there was no way you could have turned her away. The man gave you a slightly confused expression from what the hell you were talking about. "Didn’t track in any mud. Just wanted her belly scratched. I tried getting her out of our room and into Sam’s, but you came back earlier.”

“Yeah. I figured maybe she could stay with me tonight, Y/N and I’d try to find her a home tomorrow.” Sam said. “She’ll be out of your hair in no time. Just let me get her into my room and you’ll never know she was here.”

Your arm reached out from behind to open the door and let it slowly swing open for Dean to see the stranger lying on his bed. You gave him a small smile, hoping her adorable brown eyes would change his mind. Dean peered inside and examined who was staring back at him, and to your surprise, he didn’t seem like he was going to throw a fit. “She can stay the night.”

“I knew you wouldn’t mind. I mean, isn’t she adora…” You felt your smile grow wider at how Dean was taking this, considering how he wasn’t a particular fan of animals. You turned around to head inside the motel room again as your eyes landed on what you presumed was going to be the dog, only you found someone staring at you. You furrowed your brow when you noticed it was a woman who was lying on your bed, smiling back at you. You quickly looked over at Dean, wondering how stupid you were for not to see this happen. “Two seconds she was a dog.”

Sam wasted no time in pulling out a knife from his back pocket and entered the room, heading over to the stranger and pointed the silver blade at her. "All right, who the hell are you?”

“Not a shapeshifter, so you can stash the blade.” She said. You and Dean headed into the motel and slammed the door shut behind you, giving all of you some privacy to figure out why she was here in the first place. And what exactly she was. “I’m a familiar.”

“A what?” Dean asked.

“Companion to a witch—some witches.” Sam explained to his brother. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked back at the woman, the younger man put away the blade so all of you could speak in more of a civil manner. “Split their time between human and animal form.”

“I get a more accurate read on people in my other persona. Approaching guys in a motel room like this—well, it gets complicated.” She said. “My name is Portia. I belong to James Frampton.”

You furrowed your brow slightly at the familiar name she spoke of, as the person was the reason why you were here in town in the first place. Dean quietly chuckled when he started connecting the dots in a direction that didn’t make a whole lot of sense. “No. No, no. See, that doesn’t work for us, 'cause that would mean our buddy James is a witch.”

“Wow.” Portia slowly replied in a sarcastic tone of voice. “You’re quick.”

“James is a freaking witch?” Dean questioned the woman for a straight answer.

“He wasn’t when you met him, but that last case you worked with him.” Portia said. Sam had mentioned it was something to do with a lunatic alchemist, and it seemed that was what got the ball rolling for their friend in the wrong direction. He didn’t learn about a damn thing about how things like this could go wrong, he wanted to be a part of it.“James wanted to learn more about that world—the black arts, witchcraft. It became the center of his life.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me that James the cop became a witch because of of these two?“ You asked her, pointing a finger at each of the boys. You let out a quiet scoff and started to slowly shake your head at how things didn’t seem to go in a very good direction. "Wow. You guys really dropped the ball on this one.”

Portia didn’t answer your question, her focus seemed to have drifted over to the older man. She tried to get a read on him, to see what he was really about. She narrowed her eyes on him, finding something about him that seemed noteworthy. “You don’t like dogs, do you?”

“Wait.” You said, pulling her back to the topic at hand. “So James isn’t a cop anymore?”

“Sure he is. Homicide detective.” Portia said. “His new powers make his work even better.”

“Then what does he need from us?” Sam asked. 

“Well, something’s better been happening to him. It started with excruciating headaches, screaming sounds in his ears, horrible nightmares. Unable to sleep or think. He can’t work. It—It’s like he’s having a breakdown.” Portia explained to all of you about what had been going on with the man. You could hear in her voice alone of how worried she was about the man’s well being. And she was desperate enough to trust a couple of hunters to help fix him before he got any worse. “Maybe you can find a way to help him.”

“Well, here’s the thing.” Dean said, giving the woman one good reason why he was hesitant to even hear more about this. “Witches—not real fans.”

Portia didn’t like what she was hearing from the man, and took it upon herself to speak her mind. She made slow, and deliberate steps towards the man to prove her point that not everyone was what they seemed. “Really? Well, James is a cop with a spotless record. He’s used his skills for nothing but good. So why don’t you lose the ignorant bigotry for maybe two seconds and give him a shot?”

“Sure. James is fighting crime and using his powers for good today, but it’s a matter of time until he does something selfish. ‘Cause, you see, most witches I’ve met only get into this because it benefits them. And it sounds like James fits perfectly in that category. But if you say he’s such a good boy…I suggest for you to learn your place and back off.” You warn her. You didn’t hesitate in getting into her face when she did the same to Dean, your mood swings made you want to escalate the argument into something more than what it should be. “You came to us, remember? We’ll hear more about this. Or…I can send you running back to your owner with your tail between your legs. Your choice.“

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked over at the boys for them to back you up with the point you were trying to make, hoping they would have something important to say. Only you should have known better than for them to twist the situation around and think with the right head from what you heard Dean say underneath his breath. “That was incredibly hot.”

Portia scoffed from the older man’s reaction while you gave him a look of disbelief at what his reaction was at what he saw unfold between the both of you. You looked over at Sam, not sure if you wanted to hear his reaction. But it seemed his was the same as his brother’s, all though he looked a little embarrassed when he agreed. “It was pretty hot.”

“You know what? Forget it. Forget everything I just said.” You told the woman. You decided that you were going to give her the benefit of the doubt and listen to what she had to say, just to spite Dean. “You want a beer?”

You got yourself comfortable on the bed after you handed Portia a beer for her to tell you the reason why she was here in the first place, despite how you had gotten off on the wrong foot, you hoped she would understand that you meant well. She told you about how James was being plagued with these nightmares that seemed like they were real. Along with other symptoms that were starting to worry her. You listened to what she had to say, and while everyone was sipping on their beers, you were indulging yourself in a slice pie in attempt to calm down the cravings you had been having over the past few days.

“So these dreams James are having,” You accidentally spoke too soon with your mouth full of crust and cherry. You covered your mouth and chewed a few more times before you swallowed the food so you could properly speak again. “He thinks that they’re real? He thinks that he is actually killing people?”

“I think so.” Portia said. “At least that’s what I picked up before he started blocking me.”

“What does that mean,” Sam asked her. “blocking you?”

“Familiars and their masters—we can communicate telepathically.” Portia explained to all of you about how deep their relationship was. “I can get inside of James’ head anytime I want. But he shut me out.”

“So, what, you think maybe there’s something inside there he doesn’t want you to see?” Sam wondered.

“Possibly, yeah—something dark, you know, that’s destroying him.” Portia said. You watched as she headed over to the bed to take a seat down opposite next to you. “He can’t go to the police, and he doesn’t trust other witches.”

“But he trusts us?” Dean asked. Even you had to admit what James was doing was like going to the cops and admitting that he might have killed someone. In your line of work if it quacked like a duck, and was a murderer—you tended not to think twice and take them out before they could hurt someone else. “You do know who we are, right? We’re the last people that somebody like James needs to be telling his troubles to.”

Portia fell silent when she realized all of you still believed it was James who had contacted all of you. Only in fact it was someone else. “This was my idea. I was the one who sent you the text under James’ name.” She admitted. “He doesn’t know you’re here. But…I think you’re maybe all he has.”

You and the boys had taken on hunts with little to no evidence that something was going on. But it was rare for you to find out the thing you were hunting was the monster doing the killings, and how you had to prove they weren’t. You were here in town, and if Portia was right, than it seemed someone was pulling on James’ strings to make him do terrible things. You decided it wouldn’t hurt to check out. For now, the only thing you cared about was going to bed. Murder and witchcraft would just have to wait until morning.

\+ + +

“You had no right to do this.”

“I was afraid for your life!”

The next morning you found yourself sitting on James Frampton’s couch and doing anything you could to try and occupy your time by twiddling your thumbs in your lap. And not eavesdrop on the heated argument between the duo in the room across the house. From the sound of their voices, you had a feeling they weren’t on the same page with how to handle this situation. And it wasn’t going to be resolved anytime soon for that matter.

You looked over at Sam who was sitting next to you, wondering if he was feeling awkward as you were from how things seemed to be progressing downwards. Dean sat in the armchair next to his brother and was intensely listening to every word he could catch. The reason why you were here in the first place was to try and help, but it seemed James didn’t like what his…partner had done. A couple of hunters was bad as dragging the cops into this. Portia was only trying to help the man she cared deeply for, James didn’t sound the least bit thankful.

“My life is none of their business!”

You winced at how James’ voice grew louder than Portia’s before she could try and defend her actions that she had done, making it clear the argument was over. A few moments later you heard the sound of nails tapping against the wooden floors, Portia went running out of the room she was in with James, shifting from her human to dog persona. You furrowed your brow slightly from how odd all of this felt. Sam titled his head to the side while Dean waved and smiled at the dog staring back at all of you, trying to be polite. She let out a bark before running along.

After Portia ran off to go wherever someone like her did, you saw the man of the hour himself—James Frampton. You weren’t sure what to expect from a cop who turned to witchcraft. He seemed like someone who was suffering from lack of sleep at how disheveled he look from his clothing to his lack of personal care. And James felt like he was the type of person who took pride in how he looked. All though you overheard his complaints about you and the boys being here, you made a better first impression when the both of you made eye contact after James spotted two familiar faces and wondered who the third one was. You pushed yourself up to your feet when the boys did when James approached all of you.

“Sam, Dean.” James greeted the two men in a casual tone, knowing this visit wasn’t for a run into town to say hello. He nodded his head to acknowledge their presence. You stood up a little straighter and gave the man a polite smile when you saw his gaze linger back on to you. He furrowed his brow slightly, as if he was trying to wrack his brain to figure out if the both of you crossed paths before. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“James, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Our long-time hunting partner and family friend. Y/N, this is James Frampton.” Dean was the one who introduced the both of you, wanting to get formalities out of the way before getting down to the reason why all of you were here in the first place. The man dropped the welcome wagon act and to a serious sort of expression. “Witchcraft James? Really? What the hell are you thinking?”

“You come to help or pile on?” James asked, seeming too exhausted to want to hear a lecture from the hunter about his life choices.

“I’m just saying,” Dean said, pretending to mean well from what he was warning the man about the forces he was messing with. He might be able to do good here and there, but it was only a matter of time until things backfired. And from what you heard from Portia last night, it was already starting. “You screw with that stuff, you’re gonna fry your wiring.”

“All right. Look,” Sam spoke up before this conversation could turn into another argument. He decided to get both men back on track to the reason why all of you were here in the first place. “Why don’t you tell about these dreams? She said people were dying in them.”

“‘Dying’? They were torn to bits. I, uh,” James rubbed his face with his hand to get himself to focus long enough to tell you the nitty gritty details Portia spruced up to make it sound nicer. “I could feel my fingers ripping into their flesh.”

You grimaced at the thought of a mere experience that you were fortunate enough to have never experienced. During your lifetime there was enough moments where you had done alls sorts of terrible things that haunted you to this very day. Mostly it was when you weren’t behind the wheel of your own body. However, the mind was a tricky little thing. You also had plenty of horrifying experiences just be a figment of your imagination. “But they were dreams?”

“Well, I, uh, woke up in my bed.” James said. It sounded like that was the only thing he knew for sure. Sam nodded his head slowly, repeating what you had thought all of it sounded as what it was—dreams. James wasn’t as confident all of this was simple as his wild imagination playing a little trick on him with vivid nightmares. “I’m not so sure.”

“Not helping, James.” Dean reminded the man of who he was talking to. You wanted to believe that the cop turned witch was the victim in all of this. But the more he talked, the more guilty he was starting to look. And James was just getting started on the truth he was about to tell you.

“Those people—they died.” He said. “ I checked with the precinct.” 

You let out a quiet sigh from the bit of information that made what was going on too real for all of this to be some kind of coincidence. Dean looked over at his brother to shoot him a sort of 'I told you so’ look. Sam still wasn’t convinced that James was at fault for all of this. He was innocent until proven guilty. “All right, well,” Sam said, trying to make sense of how this could be explained without pointing the finger at James. “Maybe you heard it, and it stuck in your head.”

“You don’t think I told myself all that? You don’t think I didn’t say, 'That wasn’t me. I couldn’t have done such a thing’?” James asked. He walked over to his fireplace and bent down to grab something from what looked to be a gym bag. You saw him pull out something in a clear plastic bag and pull it out to reveal a silk white button up shirt. Your face fell in surprise when you saw the blood stains soaked into the fabric. You noticed there was what seemed to be initials in the breast pocket of the button up, JMF. You knew it belonged to him, but you had to ask out of politeness. “James Martin Frampton.”

James threw the shirt to the coffee table and took a seat on the armchair, knowing the bloody shirt was enough evidence alone to make him feel guilty. There was no other explanation as to how the blood got on his shirt. He covered his face with a hand, the situation was all too much for him to handle. "What’s happening to me?”

“How about this,” Dean said, trying to come up with a theory that sounded like it might make sense. You and the boys took a seat back down and tried to help the man figure out what might be going on here. “You pissed off another witch, and he or she hexed you and forced you to…”

“It’s possible, I suppose,” James said. “But I never heard of it.”

“How many of these dreams have you had?” You asked the man.

"Four. The most recent one is last night.” James said. You didn’t like what you were hearing. All the evidence was pointing in the direction of James being the guilty party with the blood of four innocent people on his hands. “It was a blind man. I, uh, I was choking him, and…”

“All right, James, we’re gonna help you figure this out,” You reassured the man. You were slightly skeptical about what you were dealing with here, but you would feel like a hypocrite not to lend out a helping hand to someone who was doing disastrous things that was out of their control. And it meant things were about to get a little uncomfortable for him while you and the boys looked deeper into this. “But you’re gonna have to do your part.”

“Which is?” James asked.

You looked over at the older Winchester for him to get out what was going to help James out of trouble. Dean leaned over slightly in his chair and grabbed the duffel bag he brought with him and dropped it down to the coffee table with a heavy thud. Dean unzipped the bag to reveal a intimidating set of heavy iron chains, the only thing that could keep someone powerful as a witch under lock and eye until you figured what was going on. “You’re gonna have to stay put. House arrest, my friend.”

\+ + +

While James was spending the rest of his day locked up in his house like a prisoner, you busied yourself by searching up the four victims that were all connected together by surfacing in James’ dreams in the style of how they were murdered by his own hands. You made the wrongful choice of going through crime scene photographs to see what you were dealing with. All though you weren’t the squeamish type and it took a lot to make you feel a little queasy, the pictures mixed with the lingering morning sickness that was still lingering into the afternoon made you eye the bathroom every so often, just in case you needed to make a run for it.

The brothers were out running around town collecting ingredients you would need to solve this problem you were having. What it was and who was causing all these murders was still to be answered. When you finally did find out who it was, you needed a way to stop them before they hurt someone else. The only witch you personally hunted was a coven of housewives who were secretly selling their soul to a demon for mediocre things. You were dealing with a witch who was the real deal and attained magic from other sources, which meant they weren’t going to be taken down with a simple weapons. Every monster had a weakness, even people who used and manipulated forces they really didn’t understand.

You moved your gaze away from the laptop screen when you heard the lock to the motel door started to lift back, and a second later revealing Dean carrying a crumpled paper bag. You gave the man a smile and greeted him with a simple hey before returning back to your research, wanting to finish the article you found before finding out if their trip was successful. From the looks of it, Dean found everything all of you would need, which made your life a little bit easier. You just needed to find the person to use the spell on.

“Got the last of it.” Dean informed you. He yanked the motel room key out of the lock and slammed the door shut from behind him, heading over to the table so he could dump out the ingredients to the table with the rest of the stuff.

“Good. While you were gone, I’ve been looking at the crime scene reports, and they are exactly the same as James told us—vics, dates, location.“ You said, pushing yourself back up to a more comfortable sitting position and crossed your legs together. You reached out a hand to grab the laptop and pull it closer to you. Out of habit, your other one rested against your stomach while you continued talking. “The most recent one was the blind man, just like he said.”

“That’s not good.” Dean said, knowing none of this wasn’t going in the direction of James’ favor.

“Also, I looked into his record on the force.” You said. There was more to this situation than you realized. It seemed your cop turned witch was using his powers for good. “He went from rookie detective to lieutenant basically overnight, and in the last four years, his solve rate’s been right at about one hundred percent.”

“Of course. He’s got the booga-booga on his side.” Dean said. You chuckled quietly to yourself at the remark and went back to your research for a moment. Dean shrugged off his jacket and threw it to a nearby chair. He looked over the ingredients that he’d been collecting all afternoon after finding ones that none of you had in the Impala. “Sweetheart, you know that we’ve never actually seen this witch-killing spell of Bobby’s work, right? I mean, this is not a sure thing.”

“Is there anything we ever do a sure thing?” You asked with a small smile, wondering what was making him feel so hesitant all of a sudden on this plan.

“Well, no, but I would just like to have the odds in our favor as much as possible.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow slightly from the way he was acting. You knew that Dean was hesitant before taking on this case out of the fact that he wasn’t sure what all of you were getting yourselves into. Now that he knew there was innocent people dying, he should have been more focused than ever trying to find a stop to like this always. Using a new technique was always a risky thing, but it never bothered Dean much. You gave him a confused look as to what really brought up this behavior. “Well, I’m concerned.”

Dean was the type of person who didn’t like to dance around a topic and make it more of a big deal out of it, he would rather tell you to your face than send mixed signals. But he also could be sarcastic and sneaky about things that were more of a serious nature. Or about things that bothered him. You knew how to take a hint when you saw one, and Dean couldn’t have been anymore blunt even if he tried. He might as well just told you straight out what he really wanted to say. You felt your lips stretch into a smile as you slowly shook your head.

"Concerned about the witch-killing spell…” You pretended to wonder if that’s what he was talking about, or the subject that you thought was going to be brought up when you weren’t dealing with more pressing matters at the moment. If he wanted to bring it up, you were more than happy to talk about it. “…Or that I’m gonna mess these trials up?”

Dean place down the glass bottle he was fiddling around with and let out a sigh, knowing that was exactly on his mind. It had only been a few days since he learned that he was going to be a father after you had weeks to mentally prepare yourself for this new responsibility that would be here in the matter of months. But it was what you were doing on top that you knew about before all of this that happened that was getting him the most worried. You were running into uncharted territories without a single clue of what you were doing. That was nerve wracking enough, and on top of it all, you had a bystander along for the ride.

“Look, we get too far down the road with this,” Dean approached the subject in a calm voice, knowing things were about to take a detour down a road you hated to hear. You rolled your eyes in annoyance before you heard any more of what he had to say. “We can’t go back, and it’ll be too late for me to jump in.”

What the both of you were approaching was a minefield of different topics that you had yet to really talk about. He was stuck in the process of now while you were thinking about the after, what things were going to be like when these trials were complete and the baby was here for good. “You know, maybe I’ll actually pull this one off. Maybe it’ll end somewhat okay.”

“I’m just trying to be realistic here, Y/N. Most of these things don’t. And I’m speaking from past experience.” Dean said. You narrowed your eyes on him from what he was bringing up. Emma and Ben, his past life that he tried to live. His insecurities that he thought was going to repeat all over again. “Besides, you’re not exactly going to be in fighting shape for much longer. I’m just saying what I’m thinking. You want us to have that healthy-sharing relationship. So here you go.”

“I know what you’re saying, Dean. You’ve said it. Hell, you showed me how you really felt about it when I told you.” You found yourself hitting a little below the belt from what you brought up, knowing well enough that it was something Dean apologized for. But you still had to admit you were hurt from his first reaction. And you felt his behavior was brought on by something more. “You know, I’ve been going over this and over this, and asking myself 'Why doesn’t he think I can do this? Is it because I’m pregnant? Or because he thinks I’m not capable?’ And it finally occurred to me.”

Dean was listening to every word you had to say. He never wanted to shut you out and pretend he didn’t care for what you were thinking. Part of what he learned while being in a relationship with you was that communication was key. Even if it was things he didn’t want to hear. “You think these kind of problems can be solved when

the one who does it. You can’t be a team player. Not because you want the glory. Because you think these things are gonna end up one way. And you say you’re on board with the baby. And I know I haven’t given you a lot of time to process, but you’re treating me like have no idea what I’m doing. Like…” You felt yourself inhaling a deep breath from the example you were going to use, knowing you were about to bring up a subject you didn’t like to talk about. “Like I’m going to end up like everyone else.”

You didn’t need to mention any names for Dean to figure out who you were talking about; the people who he lost in the past that were a family he tried to have. Lisa and Ben were the first thing that came to mind. They were the best case scenario for how his unfortunate luck turned out. Little Bobby John was a temporary person in your lives, but he made an impact that changed Dean’s perspective on things. The most recent tragedy was Emma who was born out of a one night stand. A monster who had to be killed by her uncle before she tried to end both of the brothers’ lives. And the person who might be the root to all of his issues since a child, Mary.

Dean’s mother was the woman who did everything she could to get a normal life and make sure her children were raised without knowing the dangers like she had. She tried so hard, until all of her plans were unraveled one night after making a deal with a demon and selling out her youngest son without realizing it. All though she paid the price as well years later, her family didn’t end up the way she imagined. Her husband turned into an obsessed bastard and fell into the trap of the life she tried leaving and her children were raised the same. Paranoid, broken, and afraid no sort of good could ever come to them without someone paying the price.

It had only been a few days since you broke the news and Dean was still trying to process this, but you were growing frustrated with him. Not at the pace he was trying to comprehend the news that he was becoming a father, but because of what you were doing to try and protect your unborn child. In a way you were doing the same thing Mary and your own mother had. You were going up against hell and all of its demons. It wasn’t only the child who was going to pay the price if something went wrong, but the mother as well. Unlike the both of them, you weren’t looking for a chance to sell your soul for a normal life. You were trying to break the cycle once and for all.

"I told you I was on board with this. Every step of the way.” Dean reminded you. You raised your brow slightly, wondering which part he meant by that. He rolled his eyes in frustration, suddenly wanting to be done with this topic once and for all. “Are we gonna keep arguing about the same crap? Or are we gonna bury it and be done?”

“I’m done if you’re done.” You responded a little too quickly after he spoke.

Dean took a few steps back to the table and picked up the empty bottle once more to examine it, you directed your attention back to the laptop. He waited for you to take a breather before he spoke up again, going back to the more important topic at the moment. “You know, once I get this put together, we can’t hesitate. If we got to use it, we use it.”

“You mean if we find the witch who’s doing this to James?” You asked, wondering if he was thinking in the direction you were.

“Or,” Dean found himself being backed into a corner when he was starting to figure out that not everyone was thinking on the same wavelength of what the right thing to do was. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t make any sarcastic remarks like he normally did. He stated the possibility in a calm manner. “There is no other witch.”

“Look, I like James as much as the next guy, but people are getting ganked here. Besides, Benny and Kate—they were forced to be what they are.” Dean said. “James chose this.”

You knew deep down he was right about this. Sometimes people didn’t choose to be monsters, they were turned against their will by people for all sorts of different reasons—love, revenge. Other times people went to the dark side for the hell of it. In James’ case he turned to witchcraft because he thought it would make his job better. And while it had, there was consequences. Messing with dark forces like this could make anyone go crazy and forgot the line between right and wrong. You clicked out of the tabs and shut your laptop. You always wanted to look for the best in people, considering your life turned out exactly like Benny and Kate. You always tried to do good like James, but it ended with your soul turning a little darker. And while you tried to do the right thing…sometimes it ended with people getting hurt.

\+ + +

Normal, everyday people had their clubs and bars to enjoy themselves and relax. Witches and supernatural beings alike had their own retreats as well from humans. It was the perfect place to rub elbows with people who you normally hunted. A little white lie was enough to grant you access to the exclusive club, along with the help of Portia to give you a few pointers to fit in. You and her didn’t get off on the right foot (or paw, Dean would say) but the both of you had the common interest in finding out what was going on with James. You still weren’t convinced just yet he was the one who was committing all these murders.

On the outside, it looked nothing more than a rundown and abandoned building. There was no amount of curb appeal that would make you willingly go into this place for a drink. It was when you stepped inside in which your opinion about the place changed, it was as if you were walking into a completely different building from the one you stepped into. You walked the halls of this high end club, with creatures that you swear were looking down at you. You swore everyone that you passed by gave you a disapproving glare. For a moment you wondered if they knew who you who you were, but they didn’t have enough instinct to figure it out all the way. It seemed the judgmental stares weren’t directed just towards you.

As you were walking down the staircase behind Dean and Portia, you moved slightly out the way and smiled at a man walking past you, trying to be friendly. It ended with him looking at you up and down, in a way that made you feel as if you didn’t belong here. Your smile vanished and soon was replaced with a quick glare toward him off. He didn’t seem fazed, going on his way. “I don’t know if it’s just me,” You leaned forward slightly and grabbed a hold of the railing so you wouldn’t fall. “But I feel like I’m being judged. Like, hardcore.”

“Same here.” Dean agreed with you. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the older man who passed by him. “Are we getting the stink eye in here or what?”

"They can tell you two are outsiders.” Portia said.

“And here I was expecting the VIP treatment.” You mumbled. You took the final step down from the staircase and followed behind the woman, only to see their gaze on you continued on when you got to the bar. You didn’t let their lingering stares phase you. “Are they all witches?”

“And stuff.” Portia added on. “But if there’s information out here about James, they’ll know.”

You took a sweep of the bar to see that everyone looked human to the naked eye, enjoying their cocktails and uppercase atmosphere. And you were the eye sore that was ruining their night. You moved your attention away from the unwanted attention and to the the woman, curious about something. “How did James find you, anyway? Is there like,” You felt your lips stretch into a smile at the ridiculous question you were about to ask. “Some sort of website he went on to find you? There some kind of matchmaker?”

“Not the way it works.” Portia corrected you. All though from the smile you caught on her face, she seemed at least amused at your guess of how she found James. “The familiar finds the master, and they become inseparable.”

“Guess a lot of people feel that way about their pets.” Dean said. Portia stopped in her tracks from what she heard the man say, something to her was degrading from what she really was. Even you had to admit it was a little bit mean. She turned around and gave the man a glare, making him suddenly wonder what he did wrong. "What?”

Portia scoffed at the way the hunter thought, “I’m not James’ pet.”

“Well,” Dean’s lips stretched into a smile. “Not all the time.”

“Not ever.” Portia said. She stepped forward to the man, wanting to get one thing straight about their relationship that wasn’t anything like he thought it was. The woman might be able to transform herself into a dog, but that had nothing to do with who she truly was. “The master and the familiar—there’s an unbreakable bond, like a melding of souls. We would die for each other.“

“So…you just living your life until you met James one day, who so happened to be looking for someone like you? And the both of you just knew that you were meant to be together?” You asked. Portia’s defenses were starting to be lowered when you approached the topic with more of an open mind, and slightly curious as to how all of this worked for them. “Basically you’re the equivalent to human soulmates, per se. Huh. Interesting.”

You knew a little something about human bonds when you felt your lips stretch into a faint smile and your gaze move to the older Winchester. However your attention was drawn away all together from the topic when you heard a male voice call out Portia’s name, along with the snapping of someone’s fingers. You looked across the bar to see a man sitting all by himself with a rather smug smirk on his face. You narrowed your eyes slightly when he waved his hand in the air, grabbing the woman’s attention. You followed behind her when she made her way over to the man, seeming as if he was the reason why she brought the both of you here in the first place.

“Dean, Y/N. Meet Philippe LeChat.” Portia introduced you to her friend, bringing up that little white lie that granted you access here in the first place. You weren’t sure if you should have been offended or proud at what she said you were supposed to be pretending to be. "Dean’s a wiccan from Detroit. Y/N is his familiar.”

“Really?” Phillippe seemed rather intrigued, enough to invite the three of you to join him on the couch across from him. “Well…sit, sit.”

“Spencer here?” Portia asked, taking a seat at the far end of the couch, leaving you in the middle between her and Dean. You got yourself comfortable, making sure to subtly tug on your shirt so it would hide your little bump. You couldn’t be too cautious around these parts.

“Somewhere.” Philippe replied.

Dean accidentally found himself disrupting the conversation when he let out a sneeze, which was unlike him. You furrowed your brow and looked over at him with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat, sniffing away another sneeze that he felt tickling his nose. “That’s weird. That only happens around cats.”

“Tell me about James.” Philippe turned his attention back to Portia, eager to jump back into the conversation. It seemed he wanted to get some dirt on the man. You wondered who he was, a witch or a familiar. “Lot of buzz out there.”

“All gossip.” Portia said. You and Dean looked over at the woman, wondering exactly what they were discussing. “The community has a little attitude going.”

Phillip chuckled to himself and uncrossed his legs, he leaned forward and rested his arms on his upper thighs. It seemed that not everyone was willing to look for the good in James. “He brings it on himself.” He said. “The whole cop thing—witch cop—is he nuts?”

“I said the exact same thing.” Dean agreed. You rolled your eyes from the remark that you knew wasn’t exactly the man you were trying to clear the name of, Portia threw the man a subtle glare from how his big mouth seem to run at the worst of times.

“Then there’s you, babe.” Philippe said, talking directly to Portia. “It isn’t done, Portia, and you know it.”

“I’m sorry. Uh, remind us,” You spoke up, flashing a smile at the miscommunication that seemed to be going on between all of you. It seemed Portia left something important out from telling you. Philippe couldn’t have been anymore cryptic even if he tried. “What isn’t done?”

Before you could get any sort of answers from information you felt Portia had left out, a man approached the four of you, seeming to have known the woman well when he spoke her name. You greeted the stranger with a smile, Dean came right out with the same lie when he noticed the stranger was a little curious to the new faces he hadn’t seen around here before. “Uh, I’m a–I’m a wiccan. I’m from Detroit.” Dean introduced himself. Your smile grew a little wider when Dean leaned back in his seat and draped his arm across the back of the couch. This couldn’t have been awkward, but somehow he made it that way. “She’s my…familiar.”

“Spencer’s the man to ask.” Portia said, gesturing a hand to the man standing in front of you.

“Have you ever heard of a spell where a witch can control the actions of another witch?” You were the one who asked the question to the fellow wiccan when Dean attempt to do so, but only ended with him letting out a few words before he sneezed once again. You scooched away from him, not wanting to be in the target area from his allergies that were seemed to be triggered by a nonexistent feline.

“No, I have never heard of a thing like that. I don’t think it’s possible.” Spencer said. You let out a quiet sigh from the only possible lead you had that might explain what was going on. The man looked over at Portia, feeling the need to check up on the fellow friend you had in common from all the rumors circulating. “How’s James?”

“Better.” Portia replied. “I’ll tell him you asked.”

“Philippe,” Spencer directed his attention to the man you were sitting across. “It’s time we were going.”

“Of course. Good night.” Philippe said his goodbyes to Portia, in the kind of voice that made it seem they weren’t exactly the best of friends. He looked over at you and Dean to say farewell to the both of you as well. His lips stretched into a smile when he made eye contact with the older man. “So nice to meet you two.”

You were about to return the gesture as a sign of friendliness, but you felt your lips parting away from one another from what you saw. Philippe’s eyes changed color into a sort of yellow, along with the shape of his pupils. When you blinked, he went from human to a little black cat, in the matter of seconds. You let out a slight chuckle from how you didn’t figure it out sooner that he wasn’t a witch, but a familiar. Spencer gently grazed his hand across the cat’s head before the both of them went on their way. You heard your phone go off, right after Dean mumbled something about how he knew Philippe was the reason for his allergies.

Rolling your eyes, you excused yourself up from the couch, wanting to take the call in private when you noticed it was Sam who was trying to get a hold of you. “Where are you guys?”

“Some witch bar.” You said. “Why?”

“Listen, I just got the lab work back from the blood on James’ shirt.” Sam said. You asked him what he found, slightly hopeful that it wasn’t what you thought it was. Of course, he didn’t call to make this easier. He had been on your side about wanting to give James the benefit of the doubt, but after what he discovered, you had a feeling there was no more chances you could give. “Not good. Blood’s an exact match to victim number three.”

“Great. Well,” You let out a sigh from what you were hearing. “That pretty much says it all for us, doesn’t it?”

You looked over your way at Portia, who was sitting on the couch, and trying her hardest to eavesdrop on the conversation. You had a feeling she didn’t need to hear a single word from how it was going, your expression said it all. You said a quick goodbye to the younger Winchester before hanging up the phone. Nodding your head to Dean, you had a feeling it was time to leave and tell him the news that he was right about James all along.

\+ + +

It wasn’t ideal what you were about to do, and while you would rather end this with the sight of James on the prowl for another human life—at least to have some kind of evidence to know he was the one responsible. You knew it was too much of a risk for him to see another day. The blood on his shirt that matched the latest victim was enough to convince anyone he was a guilty man. What you needed to do in order to take someone down like James was a Molotov cocktail of all sorts of different ingredients the boys went around town looking for. All you had to do was lit the cloth you stuck in the neck of the bottle and throw it at your target, who was unable to fight back. People who hunted witches back in the seventeenth century had something going with burning those accused of witchcraft at the stake. Burn, witch, burn.

Even though you knew James was good as guilty, you still felt a little morbid for what you and the boys were about to do. James genuinely seemed like the type of person who wanted to help people, and got into this sort of lifestyle because it made his job as a cop easier. And there was nothing worse than an unsolved problem. But there was always consequences to his actions. He was getting himself involved with something that was dangerous. His motives might have started out as helping people, than it was getting job promotions he would never be qualified for years. Greed breeds contempt. And James was on his way there.

You needed to stop him before whatever was making him kill innocent people took control and hunted for more victims. The three of you went to his house in the middle of the night, where you were sure he’d be asleep. Having to look someone in the eye from what you were about to do was going to give you nightmares for a while. Even though you knew he was to blame for the deaths of four people, you were still human with a conscious a little too big for your own good.

Getting into the house was the easy part, all you needed to do was pick the lock and sneak yourself in without making a noise. You would think James being a cop he’d invest some money in a decent alarm system. His downfall. You knew a layout of the place from when you were here earlier today. You followed behind the boys and to the bedroom where you left James hours ago. Dean was the one who holding the bottle and quietly took out the lighter from his pocket. Right when he flicked it, causing a small flame to ignite, he was ready to get started on this plan—until an unlikely person came to his rescue. The sliding doors to the bathroom opened by Portia, and she stopped you before you could kill an innocent man.

You were set on the idea that James was the only one responsible for the killings from the bloody shirt you found on his shirt and the lack of proof a witch could manipulate someone else to do their bidding. Portia, however, still kept to her beliefs that the man she loved wasn’t responsible for his actions. And her reasons for believe so wasn’t what you expected to hear. But you were willing to give her a lending ear to see what she had to say.

“James and I were close, without psychological walls,” Portia explained her relationship with the man, in terms that made you confused as to how it worked. And a little uncomfortable from the thought that crossed your mind. You didn’t see this one coming. “Intimate.”

Dean, always being the one with a dirty mind, was the one who fell short from what she was trying to say without saying it straight out. “I don't—”

"Really?” You asked the man. He seemed in the dark from the confused expression on his face. You let out a sigh and told him the truth Portia was sugar coating. “They had sex.”

“Wow.” Dean managed to speak a word after spending a few seconds making his attempt at hiding his surprised reaction you could read all over his face. He chuckled to himself while trying to process what was going on here to the best of his ability. “I, uh—I didn’t expect that.”

“We have an unusual relationship.” Portia admitted. “Familiars aren’t supposed to be sexually involved with their witches.”

“Understandable, you know, considering that you’re a….well, and that he’s…That’s,” Dean’s lips stretched into an awkward smile when he let out another chuckle, trying to come up with why all of this felt weird. Your face scrunched up from how his brain was trying to figure out what their private life was like, considering Portia was a woman of many forms. He looked over at his brother for him to throw the man a bone and get him out of this one before things could get weird, Sam shook his head, wanting to be away from this far as possible. Dean nervously swallowed and turned his gaze onto you. “A little help here?”

“Yeah. Here’s some advice: Shut up.” You told the man, placing a hand on his arm to pretend like you were shushing him, instead your fingers wrapped around it, squeezing him hard enough to see the man physically flich at the pressure. You looked back over to Portia and gave her a smile, trying your hardest to get this conversation back on track. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“James and I—we hadn’t made love in weeks. His agony ate him up, and he shut me out.” Portia said. It sounded like what someone with a guilty conscious would do, and someone who was seeing all sorts of crazy things that was making them scared. You listened to more of what she had to say, curious as to where this was going. “But tonight, I saw his thoughts—-memories of the murders.”

“I’m sorry, is this you trying to talk us out of ganking James or—” Dean said, not sure where the woman was trying to say in order to defend the man she loved. It only added more to the guilty plea he had come to the conclusion to. Portia cut him off, knowing it wasn’t that easy.

“Dean, that’s all I saw—just the kills.” Portia said. You furrowed your brow slightly from the new information that was starting to shed some light on things, and making you think twice at what you were about to do a few minutes ago. “No preparation, no thought process, no anticipation, no motive. Just the kills without context.”

“No other awareness of the crimes?” Sam asked.

“No.” Portia answered. “Doesn’t that at least suggest he’s under another’s control?”

“Spencer said that wasn’t possible.” Dean reminded the woman.

“Actually,” You were the one who came to James’ defense by correcting the older Winchester about what you heard the other man say. “He said he’d never heard of it. Doesn’t mean there’s not something out there suggesting otherwise.”

Portia looked defeated and worried out of her mind from the evidence that was making the man she loved look guilty. Much as it seemed like James was responsible for all of this, there was something that was making her think otherwise. And she was doing everything she could to get the three of you to change your mind about killing the man tonight, and letting him live a little longer to check out this one last lead she had to go with to clear his name. “James is chained. He’s confined. At least take a shot.”

You always liked to give people the benefit of the doubt and leave no stone unturned before making your final decision. There was something in your gut telling you that not everything was what it seemed. And maybe you felt yourself being convinced from Portia’s pleading, almost puppy dog-like eyes. You looked over at the boys, wondering what their decision was going to be. Sam seemed on board with giving it one last chance, and Dean’s quiet sigh was enough for you to know that he was on board as well.

\+ + +

Later into the day, when the sun had risen and you gotten a few hours of sleep to ready yourself for the events you had ahead, you and Dean met up with Portia to talk to someone who might help you figure out what was going on. Meanwhile, Sam tracked down was back on his way to the police department, hopeful he might be able to find something the cops overlooked that could pinpoint another person to blame for this. So far you hadn’t heard a single peep or joke from Dean about learning of Portia and James’ intimate relationship, not that he didn’t try. You learned a few tricks to get him to keep his lips sealed shut. Subtle threats and angry glares worked like a charm every time.

The three of you were supposed to meet James’ contact in a disclosed place that ended up being an empty warehouse, a little sketchy for your personal liking. You stepped out from the passenger side of the Impala and looked around the place, noticing that you were the first ones here. You crossed your arms over your chest after slamming the door shut and approaching Portia after she got herself out from the back.

“So, this Warlock we’re meeting,” You said. “I’m guessing you’d call him a snitch?”

“Cops have snitches all over town.” Portia said. “James uses Drexyl when he suspects some in the community.”

And he was coming in handy for you to figure out if Spencer was lying straight through his teeth about this supposed spell, or if there was something brewing in the group. You leaned yourself against the trunk of the Impala and waited for whoever was supposed to show up, a silence falling over the three of you. Dean had been pretty quiet all through out the ride, making you believe he was going to be on his best behavior. However…a curious mind like his needed answers. You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back your head when you heard him speak, about something you warned him about bringing up.

“I gotta ask.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes and looked over at the man, knowing exactly what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth. “I can’t help but wonder—”

“Which came first, dog or girl?” Portia guessed the man’s question.

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean,” Dean said, pretending he was trying to approach this with more kind of a sincere touch to make it seem like he wanted to know more about her personally. “I’m just curious as to which one you consider yourself, mostly.”

Portia narrowed your eyes on the man after having a strange feeling what his true motives were really all about. "This have anything to do with what I told you about James and me last night? How you’re imagining it?”

“What? No, that’s…” Dean nervously chuckled as he tried his hardest to come up with some excuse on the top of his head to explain why he was so interested in such personal details. You looked over at Portia and nodded your head to answer her question, making the both of you exchange smiles of amusement, and causing the man to feel awkward. “What? I’m curious.”

And so much more. It was your turn to chuckle at his reaction and let the conversation drift off for another time when you saw a two-door car looking like it belonged it the seventies driving up to where the three of you were. You pushed yourself back up to your feet and watched as whom you were presuming was Drexyl step out of his car, heading forward to meet all of you. Portia attempted to introduce the both of you to the man, but it seemed word spread around fast about you. You didn’t like this community, they were awfully rude to newcomers. Even if you were pretending to be one of them to kill their own kind, hospitality went a long way.

“So, here’s the deal,” Drexyl said. He got straight to the reason why all of you were here in the first place, it seemed he didn’t like to waste time on small talk. “absolutely no word on the street about any witch hexing another one.”

“You sure there’s not any kind of spell?’ Dean asked.

“Look, Detroit, I pride myself on reliable sourcing. There is, however, a lot of chatter about our James. He’s gone ripper.” Drexyl might not be the nicest person you met, but he didn’t disappoint about gossip. You spoke up, wondering if they were talking about the infamous serial killer dubbed as Jack the Ripper, he answered you by nodding his head. “Someone’s circulating the rumor that he’s set at full kill.”

“‘Someone’?” Portia repeated the man. “One of us?”

"If the cops get wind of it, arrest James, find out what he really is, that exposes the rest of us. You know that can’t happen.” Drexyl said. You gave him a curious look, wondering exactly what he meant by that. “They’re gonna give James two choices—leave or the full hara-kiri.”

“Exile or suicide?” You asked. “Don’t you think one a little more extreme than the other?”

“Witches appreciate a grand gesture.” Drexyl said. You scoffed underneath your breath from the gross understatement about his kind.

“I won’t let him do that.” Portia said in a sharp tone.

“Well,” Drexyl warned her. “the community might do it for him.”

You watched as the man who was always helpful to James turn his back on Portia and made his way back to his car, seeming pretty convinced himself that the cop wasn’t an innocent bystander if it meant his ass was covered. One way to get away with murder was to blame someone else for it. All though you couldn’t find any connection to the victims that tied them together and to James, you had a feeling their deaths might have been for a greater reason other than to make it seem like he was going dark side. If you weren’t convinced there was something going on here, you were now. Drexyl wasn’t the only one who prided themselves on their research.

\+ + +

You didn’t waste any time jumping straight into research to see if you could find anything that might clear James’ name and pin this on who the responsible one here. You thought it was going to be a one man job while Sam was still at the station. Dean surprised you by pitching in, helping you sort through Bobby’s endless notes to see if the old man knew anything about the ability to control another person. While you worked through the journal and Dean looked over some scattered notes, he nursed himself a glass of whiskey after taking up the offer by Portia while the both of you worked. You settled on a glass of water.

You worked for a little while in silence, every so often discussing what you were supposed to be looking for, before you found the closest thing you were searching. It wasn’t what you were set out on finding, but it made hell of a lot more sense from what you were originally thinking. Sam arrived back at James’ place a little while later dressed in his usual clothing after heading back to the motel to change and see if you were there. You greeted the man with a quick exchange of words before going back to your research, gathering the good news.

“So, Dean and I have been going over Bobby’s data.” You said. Sam took a seat on the empty armchair that was across from the couch you and his brother were occupying. “Portia might not be wrong. Turns out there is a spell for implanting images into another person’s brain.”

“Really?” Sam asked with curiosity.

“Yeah. Uh,” You leaned over and grabbed the piece of paper from the coffee table and read off the information you found. “‘Creating false memories in a witch’s brain.’”

“Wow. So James could be convinced he killed those people without even touching them.” Sam chuckled to himself about how terrible, and brilliant the plan was for someone to go through a lot of effort to get away with murder. “So, then, maybe it is someone else.”

“Yeah. Who’s going through a hell of a lot of trouble to make it look like James.” Dean said. The only reason you could think of for someone to do such a thing was simply because they had a grudge against the man. Something so bad to the point they were willing to murder people and put the blame on him to take him down. And make the community exile him with no remorse. Or, put an end to his madness once and for all. “What’d the cops say?”

“Here’s the thing. According to Ed Stoltz, they got zip, but they got something.” Sam said. You raised your brow in curiosity, wondering what kind of information that were withholding from an FBI agent that was poking his nose where it didn’t belong. “I saw the tech guy who’s working the case, and he had a huge filer folder marked 'James Frampton.’”

“You’re kidding.” You mumbled in disbelief. “Ed didn’t mention that.”

“No, he did no.” Sam agreed with you. You rolled your eyes in annoyance from how things were turning out for all of you. It was never just one thing. Sam pushed himself up to his feet, thinking the next logical step was to talk to James and catch him up with everything. He made it all of three steps before turning himself around, needing to mention how well behaved his brother was. “Oh, by the way, got to hand it to you. It’s been fifteen hours since Portia mentioned her night with James, and not one bestiality joke out of you.”

Dean couldn’t help himself when he broke out into a toothy smile and the most adorable chuckle slipped out from his mouth. You rolled your eyes from how proud of himself he was. Not that he didn’t have complete control of himself about his thoughts, you’d take curious questions any day over jokes that would end up making you say something you regretted.

You got back up to your feet and joined the boys when they headed to the bedroom where you had left James, chained to his bed, looking bored out of his mind from what he’d been having to do for the past day and a half. But it’d the price he had to pay instead of what his future might be if you didn’t figure this situation out. Portia kept him company while all of you worked on his case to make him an innocent man. You had more news to tell him, some good. Some bad.

“Portia tells me my friends in the community want me burned at the stake.” James said.

“We’re not gonna lie.” Dean admitted to him, both of you exchanged a look from the things you heard circulating about him that weren’t exactly pleasant. “It’s getting ugly.”

“Yea, the cops may have more on the case than they’re saying, including a thick dossier on you.” Sam added more on to this crappy situation. James seemed taken back at as to why his fellow work colleagues were trying to dig dirt up on him. “I get the feeling whatever they have is under lock and key at the precinct, room C-110.”

“Then we need to break in.” James said, as if that was even possible.

“Sure, yeah.” Dean sarcastically pretended to agree with the plan. “A locked room in a joint crawling with cops twenty four-seven—why didn’t I think of that?”

“Dean,” James spoke the hunter’s name in a serious tone, he didn’t get the plan he was trying to suggest. He was thinking too literally. “A witch can go to a place without having to go to a place.”

“What, like phone sex?” Dean guessed.

 

“Astral projection. I can project my awareness anywhere…from the comfort of right here.” James explained in more detail what he was thinking, Dean’s brain clicked with what he was trying to get from the look that crossed his face. You had to admit, it witchcraft did have it’s works when you wanted it to work in your favor. However, there was something holding him back from getting started on the plan. He lifted his arms were still chained. “But these have to go.”

“Not gonna happen.” Dean said, shooting the man’s idea down when he heard the conditions.

“Irons on, no magic.” James said. “No magic, no break-in.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed with the plan. “But only if we can go.”

And by the “we” Sam mentioned, it was himself and his brother. You were more than happy to stick this one out and be a bystander to what you were about to witness. Dean was a little bit hesitant about participating in this. But he didn’t have much of a choice. Soon enough the three men were sitting on the edge of the bed, James free from the irons and ready for what needed to be done in order for all of you to figure out what the cops had on him. Portia had her own set of concerns, considering she knew what James was capable of, along with his weaknesses

“James, are you sure you’re still even able to do this?” She asked the man in a concerned voice.

“Oh, well, that’s a confidence builder.” Dean said. “Anything else I should know before I become a disembodied thing, completely at his mercy?”

“Just close your eyes.” James instructed. He placed his hands on both of the boys’ shoulders, getting himself ready for what he was about to do. “Whatever I see, I’ll pass on to you, too.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as all of this unfolded; James closed his eyes and began chanting something in what sounded like Latin, the spell in which would get himself a private eye to the station. While you and Portia overlooked the men, what they were seeing was a perfect view of the police station, as if they were walking around themselves, naked to the human eye. Getting into the locked room was the easy part, it was what James was about to discover was going to be the hardest.

Inside room C-110 was the ongoing and private investigation of the serial murders of the victims, in which Ed Scholtz and the tech guy James knew as Josh, were working diligently on the case, connecting the dots together. All of the victims and their crime scene photos, evidence—all of it was being connected together. And to make matters worse, they were trying to pin it all on James. They had solid evidence that could put him away, no jury would be stupid enough to think twice. The cherry on top of this was the witness statement, done by someone that tied both sides together. Someone James would have never suspect would turn his back on him like this.

James jumped back into his own skin, having seen enough to know that he needed to solve this problem before it got worse. Your arms fell to your side when a rush of panic fell over when you saw the man leap up from the bed without warning, making the boys feel as if they were roughly shoved back into reality themselves. All though they were trying to get their heads to stop spinning, the brothers seemed unharmed from the unexpected crash landing to reality.

“James, why don’t you give us a little warning you’re gonna snap us back like that?” Dean asked the man, his tone of voice clear enough to show his frustration.

“Sholtz—he’s building a case against me.” Josh said. Your face dropped in surprise at this twist of events you would have never seen coming, Portia seemed shocked herself at what she was hearing. He inhaled a few deep breaths, trying to get his back on straight and try to make sense of what he just discovered. “Ed—he’s always wanted a breakthrough case. Nailing a renegade cop—that would qualify.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “especially one he holds a grudge against.”

“My first case—they dropped him as lead detective.” James said, remembering about how the man had reacted. A rookie taking center stage and pushing someone who had been doing this a lot longer out into the shadows. It made people like Ed pissed off. “They went with me.”

“So what is this, you think—payback?” You asked, trying to make sense of all of this yourself.

“He can’t just arrest you.” Portia said, knowing things like this weren’t that simple. She tried to be the voice of reason and calm James down before he could get himself worked up from what he saw. “He needs evidence. He needs proof.”

“He’s got it!” James told the woman. “He’s got everything.”

“From who?” She asked.

“Phil.” Dean answered her question. You gave him a confused look as to who that was. It wasn’t who he was that needed to worry about, but what he was that mattered the most—and what tied all of this together. “The cat.”

James felt the rage starting to boil in his chest from everything that he was discovering, too quick for his brain to comprehend about what this meant. His entire life was crumbling right in front of him–by someone he trusted and confided in from the very beginning all of this started. His breathing began to turn heavier while his anger began to spread across his expression, giving away his reaction. The boys were starting to suspect of what was about to happen, and much as they tried to talk him off the ledge from doing something stupid, James didn’t want to calm down. He wanted the truth to come out, he wanted to set this whole thing straight–and most of all, he wanted revenge.

Before you knew it, James used his powers against them, making the boys be thrown across the room, both of them landing roughly against the wall, hitting their heads hard enough to make them not a problem for a few minutes. You thought quickly on your feet before he could do something stupid. You knew it wasn’t going to kill him, but you had a feeling a bullet to the head might slow him down a bit. You pointed the loaded gun at him, your finger resting on the trigger, hoping you might be the one to talk some sense into him before he tried to fling you against the wall like had to the brothers.

“Hey—don’t you dare even think about it. I’m not exactly in the right state of being tossed around like a rag doll.” You warned the man, seeing the anger in his eyes from what you had done against him. “We want the same thing here, James. We want to find the person who is trying to frame you. And we can do that. But you need to think logically about this.”

“She’s right.” Portia agreed with you. She stepped forward to the man, hoping she could the one to get the man to calm down before he did something that made him bad as the person who was trying to frame him. “We’ll do this together.”

“No, we won’t. It’s not safe for you.” James said. He thought this might end with either him getting a chance to clear his name, or die trying. Either way, he didn’t want the woman he loved in any part of this. “Our time together is over.”

“Standing by you is my duty,” She said, standing her ground. “My duty!”

“Portia, he’s right. You have a life. Getting involved with this is only gonna end up bloody for you.” You lowered the gun to your side, giving her a sympathetic look from what you saw unfolding in front of your eyes. You looked over at James, deciding what would be best for all of you. “You saved the boys lives. And this situation is yours to handle. I owe you that much. Just…go. Take care of this.”

James didn’t waste anymore time chatting away about what the right thing to do was, he pushed past Portia and stormed out of the room, and soon out of your sight. You let out a sigh from how you saw her handle this. She gave you a look of disbelief from what you had done. Not only did you help take away the man she loved and cared for, you pushed him into a fight that might end up deadly. You waited until you heard the slamming of the door for you as a sign to get started on your real plan.

“Okay. Now that’s over,“ Your solemn expression changed in the blink of an eye, meanwhile Portia was trying her hardest not to let her emotions get the best of her. She gave you a look, wondering what the hell you were doing. "Let’s get started on stopping this, shall we?”

“What?” Portia asked, finding your change in behavior not helpful at all. She felt left in the dark from the trick you pulled, and how it was going to benefit all of you. “You practically pushed him out the door. And now you want to stop him?”

"All part of the plan. I’ve been down this road so many times, I practically wrote the part about 'breaking up with someone I love’ to keep them safe. It never works. But you know what does? Kicking ass and killing the bad guys. Which I really could go for right about now.” You said, tucking your gun back into the waistband of your jeans for safekeeping. You saw the dread and heartbreak in Portia’s eyes begin to change, giving her some hope that her lover might not end up dead. “Let’s get the boys. We need to catch James before he gets himself into real trouble.”

\+ + +

The more you dived into this case and the witch community, the more it felt like none of this was making sense. James had spent these past four years trying to keep his nose clean and using his new abilities to help solve crimes. Maybe he stepped on a few toes in the police department, but he made sure not to stir up trouble with his fellow witches and warlocks. It all seemed like he had everything under control…until the murders started up, along with the nightmares. That’s when his life started to spiral downwards. And it felt like you hit a wall from trying to make sense of all of this. Someone was responsible for murdering those four innocent people and trying to pin it all on James. Like every crime and every situation, there was a motive behind it.

Philippe might be the person to blame for getting the ball rolling on the police investigation on James, but you highly doubted he was the one who did the killings. He didn’t seem like the person who had the motivation to ruin the witch’s life. He had no reason to, and he didn’t seem like the type of person who got his hands dirty. He was a familiar who was simply doing what his master told him to do. Which was Spencer, the same person whom Portia went to help for to try and search for some kind of answers to set the man she loved free from the accusations that might have ruined her happy life with James. Only it was him who was to blame for all of this.

You and the boys made it back to the same witch bar where you had first met Spencer, a simple and quick interaction that didn’t make you the least bit suspicious that he was involved. Now there was no more denying he was set out to kill the person who mattered the most when the place was empty, the only two people in there was Spencer himself and James. A quiet entrance might have made what you were about to do a little easier, but your footsteps gave yourself away when you made your way inside, breaking up the fight that was about to begin.

“The wiccan from Detroit.” Spencer knew who it was before he looked over his shoulder to greet the three of you, who was rudely interrupting a conversation that had nothing to do with you. At least, in his eyes. You were attempting to stop this before his murder count went up to seven if he had it his way, six if he wanted to see James suffer the way he wanted.

“So James didn’t kill those—” Dean managed to get only a few words out before Spencer seemed to have had enough of him talking, and all of you standing in his presence. Because it was only getting in his way of what mattered most right now. He pushed all of you off to the side, deciding he’d deal with the three of you later, he had more pressing matters to attend.

One second you were standing on your own, and the next you felt yourself roughly being thrown upon one of the leather booth seats you spotted across the bar. Lucky for you, it seemed Spencer’s heart wasn’t completely painted black, because your landing was a lot softer than what the boys had. The both of them were thrown against the wall and broke their fall on a couple of tables that cushioned when they toppled down, and from the sounds, it crushed under their weight. The sounds you heard coming from where James and Spencer were, things were progressing at a rate where you had a feeling it might turn out in the way you were trying to prevent. With all of you dead and James framed for murder. 

You pushed yourself up to your feet and promptly made your way over to the boys that were just a foot away, lending out a helping hand to get them back up to their feet fast as possible. You didn’t really want to witness a witch fight in person when you were in range of getting hit. You rushed for the boys to hurry up in a hushed tone of voice while you looked over to see the other men were distracted fighting one another the supernatural way, and from the looks of it, James wasn’t winning. Dean got the bottle out from his jacket pocket and Sam pulled out the lighter. All of you had precious seconds to waste before Spencer found out what you were doing, and while it seemed like the man was distracted, you didn’t take into consideration he could multitask.

Spencer had fun getting into the mind frame of James to terrorize him with the things that he had done, and it was going to be even better when he used the same trick on the three of you when you were distracted trying to take him down. Your guard down long enough for him to take advantage of you, and hit you with the spell to mess with your heads. To make your worst nightmares and memories to come crawling back up to the surface after you buried them best as you could. Pain and torture were always a safe bet to break someone, but the best thing was the mental games. Using your own misery against you. Because no matter how many times you dealt with it, the anguish was still the same after dealing with it the first time.

What you first saw was your mother with her face clawed in, her eyes glowing yellow while being possessed by Azazel. Your time in Hell and the torture sessions Dean forced you through, all the things he said to you. Being a demon and all the horrible things that you did, the interactions with Lucifer…and how he got in your head. Seeing the boys die, Sam throwing himself in the pit with Michael made every fear and heartbreak come rising to the surface. You couldn’t look away or think of something else. Whatever kind of spell Spencer put on you was forcing you to look at your memories and cut open the wounds you thought had somewhat healed. Memories might have been scary, but you had a double feature. You felt yourself drifting off to a place you barely remembered. Somehow your mind envisioned it perfectly.

You found yourself standing in a hallway of a home that felt familiar…but you didn’t know exactly why. You looked around your surroundings to see that there were framed paintings on the wall, along with pictures of faces that looked to be of a young couple. It was too dark for you to see it from where you were standing from nighttime darkness, you stepped forward to see the familiar faces were of John and Mary Winchester, a few more down were of a very young looking Dean. And even one of a newborn picture of Sammy. You felt your lips stretch into a faint smile at how adorable they looked. It took you a few seconds to realize that where you were had to be in the Winchester household, circa Before Everyone Died. But why? You didn’t see Mary die.

Suddenly you heard something that sounded like a baby crying, the needy calling of a helpless being calling for the attention of their mother. Something inside of you perk up at the noise, your mind telling you to follow it. They needed your help. Your baby was calling for

attention. Your hand touch your stomach, it felt different from what you remembered. Like it had been before you got pregnant. You didn’t take into consideration about how strange that was, all you knew was the baby was crying harder when they were being neglected. They needed you. Your body moved towards the door slightly ajared at the very end of the hallway, where you noticed the crying was coming from.

“Mommy’s here, honey.” You reassured the crying baby, pressing a hand against the door and opening it up all the way. When you first found out you were expecting you jumped right into the fun parts, the interior design of the nursery. Maybe it would be zoo animals or outer space. You could decorate the ceiling with glow in the dark stars when they got older. There was so many possibilities. The room you stepped into looked like it belonged to a baby boy. Blue walls, little decorations and pictures that pulled it all together. You looked away for just a second to find the light switch, bringing some light into the room. “I'm—”

When you looked back to the crib, you felt your heart stop in its chest at the sight you didn’t see before. You took your eyes off the baby for only a few seconds. Suddenly there was two people with their backs turned to you and leaning over the wooden crib. They were mumbling among themselves and quietly laughing, as if the baby’s cries for attention was adorable. You felt your mouth open and were all set to charge forward to grab your baby and run, but you didn’t. Not when you heard one of the people speak up. It wasn’t a stranger, it was your mother.

"Shhh. It’s okay.” She reassured the helpless little being. In the same, sweet and tendering voice you remembered when you were a small child. You felt the ends of your lips stretch into a smile from how it still made you feel. “Grandma’s got you.” 

“Mom?” You found yourself whispering the title of a woman that you hadn’t seen in over sixteen years, the last time you did see her was when she wasn’t even in control of her own body. There was someone else standing next to her, but with their back turned to you, it was hard to see who it was. You slowly began to approach the crib after the baby grew silent. "Is that really you?”

The person leaning down and smiling at the baby in the crib was the same woman you remembered, with the exception of wrinkles and graying hair that came with age and the new title she was bearing. When you looked over to see who was standing next to her, the happiness that you felt just seconds ago vanished quick as it came. It was suddenly changed by dread and panic in a way you never felt before. “Y/N, what are you doing out of bed? I told you I’d stay up with the baby.”

You didn’t respond to your mother, you didn’t even look down at your newborn child. Because your focus was kept on the thing you thought you’d never have to see again after seeing Sam throw himself into the cage with the monster trapped in his own skin. But he was here…standing in the Winchester’s old home, standing in Sam’s old nursery, where your newborn was crying. It didn’t make any sense of what was happening. All you knew was that the Devil himself was staring you in the eye, with the same smile on his face that made your stomach twist into knots

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You whispered to the monster. The one who had done nothing but turn your life upside down, force you into being a horrible creature, make you watch as he murdered everyone you ever loved. And seeing him standing right next to your child made you want to tackle him to the ground and claw his eyes out. “Get away from my child and crawl back to the hole you came out from.”

“Y/N, that’s no way to speak to him.” Your mother looked up from tending to the baby to scold you for treating your guest. You gave the woman a stunned look from the unexpected reaction out of her. “He has every right to be here. You should know that.”

“What? No…No,” You shook your head when you noticed the ends of Lucifer’s lips stretch into a smirk from seeing you put in your place. “Mom, he’s not a good person. He’s the Devil. Lucifer. The person you sold your soul for—”

“You don’t think I know that?” She asked you. Slowly she looked up from the crib to look at you straight in the eye, the sight of the color made you inhale a gasp of horror. Her eyes weren’t the same shade as yours. They were the familiar glowing yellow, the ones you knew belonged to Azazel. No, no this was happening. “He’s the reason why you were born, after all. And, well, me too. Not to mention your little new addition. But nobody like a bragger.”

Something was telling you to grab your child and run. At least, make sure they were all right. Your stepped forward to the crib and wrapped your fingers around the wood, peering down, you took your first glance at your newborn baby. At first everything seemed to be okay…ten little fingers and toes, a little nose. Two ears. A mouth that would demand food when they were hungry. The baby looked content from what you could see. When you looked at the baby in the eyes, that’s when you noticed something was off. You felt yourself overcome with sheer panic. Dread. And even raging anger.

“What did you do?” At first the question comes off in a whispering tone of voice, presuming what you were thinking was some kind of trick it would have been funny to play on you. But they were smirking or laughing. They were calm, a little too much for your personal comfort. You felt your stomach sink in horror. "What did you to do its eyes?”

“They have your eyes.” Lucifer said. You felt your breathing become shallow at the compliment, forcing you to look back down at the baby to try and pretend what you saw wasn’t true. They weren’t green or Y/L/N, not even hazel to match Sam’s. They were…black. Nothing more than a pair of black sockets of where the baby’s eyes would be. You didn’t know which one you wanted to do first; cry, scream. Wonder where you went wrong to doom your child to the same fate as you. “You get rid of me, you can lock hell up forever. But I’m always gonna be a part of you, Y/N. Every. Part. Of. You.“

Suddenly you felt yourself being pulled away from the hallucination and back into reality, jolting you back into the fight that was happening. It took you a second to figure out what was going on, and to shake the gut wrenching images that lurked in your mind. The boys jumped back into the situation at hand when they noticed Portia had attacked Spencer in her dog persona, breaking the spell on the three of you and freeing James from whatever was being done to him. Sam recited the phrase he needed to say in order for the potion to work. Once it was completed, he lit the end of the cloth stuffed in the bottle so his brother could throw it directly at Spencer.

All of you watched as the potion took its effect, turning the witch into nothing more than blood and ash in the matter of seconds, solving your problem. You let out a sigh of relief from seeing everything wrapped up once and for all. Portia turned herself back into her human self and went running towards James, who was lying on the floor, and a little beaten up from the blows he took. The four of you might have been bruised, but you were alive. It was more you could say for Spencer at the moment. He wouldn’t be messing with anyone’s head anymore, or murdering for that matter. One problem was solved, there was just the matter of another.

\+ + +

The five of you were back at the motel you were staying at, standing in the parking lot to discuss what kind of future Portia and James had. While it didn’t seem like much of a good one with a murder investigation lingering over James’ head and the community having a sour taste in their mouth about the duo, a little elbow grease and good word could always change things around. But it seemed the couple didn’t want to waste time on such a thing.

"You sure you don’t want to stay and fight this?” Dean asked again for clarification.

“Look, we can help.” Sam offered.

“Eh, Spencer was right.” James said, knowing there was too many factors that made it not worthwhile to fight against. “Ed Stoltz has built enough of a case against me to make my life hell for a long time, and the community here wants no part of us.”

“We start over. We’re used to it. It’s the way it’s always been for all of us.” Portia said. Your lips stretched into a small smile when the both of you made eye contact, knowing that was a very true fact. “I’ll miss you. You, too, Sam. Maybe even you.”

You snickered to yourself when she looked over at Dean before heading to the passenger side of the car to make a head start on their trip. “I like dogs.” Dean said, as if that was to make up for the strange questions and accusations he said over the past few days.

Portia might have been in her human form, but even she could see the man was lying straight through his teeth. “No. You really don’t.”

It was sort of a strange goodbye to be having, but it was better seeing Portia going off with a bit of a joke than without the man she loved. You and the boys watched as James got Portia settled in before making his way to the driver’s side, passing past the window, giving the woman a second to change and startling you when you saw it was her dog persona sitting in the seat. You were never going to get used to what their relationship was like. But they were happy, and it worked for them.

You waved to the as James pulled out of the parking lot and to wherever they ended up next. You had a feeling they would be okay when they forgot about this and let it become a memory, burying it deep into their subconscious with some time. And you would, too. At least…that’s what you were trying to tell yourself.

\+ + +

It was a rare thing for you to be sitting in the passenger side of the Impala, most of the time to gain this spot Sam had to be out of the picture. Luckily he was in the car, wanting to take the backseat after saying that he wanted to sleep on the way back to the bunker. So you traded spots with him, letting the man somehow spread out his large frame to catch a few hours. You and Dean occupied your time with mostly silence, the radio filled in where the conversation was supposed to be.

You weren’t really in the speaking mood since you left, you kept to yourself and thoughts. Dean probably thought you were still mad at him for the conversation you had yesterday. It was on the back roads just two hours back to Lebanon that he decided to break the silence. You looked away from the road and to the man sitting next to you, wondering what he wanted to talk about.

“Well, it’s possible I was wrong.” Dean said, his suddenness at apologizing for a conversation you had a day ago made you slightly confused.

“What, about James?” You asked, wondering if that’s what the conversation was about. “Dean, all of us were ready to kill the guy.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Back there, when Spencer had us. He screwed with my head. I saw my mom…when she died…and then some other crap.” Dean admitted to you. You felt a hand slowly crawl up from the seat and to your stomach, feeling the slight bump of your stomach. You mentioned that you saw memories as well. “You know, when I look back at what our family’s been through, what everyone’s been through—including you, seeing all the pain… I realize that the only way we’ve made it through it all is by hanging together.”

Dean took his eyes off the road every few seconds, but you knew well enough when he got deep with you, he meant what he was saying. For a moment you felt yourself becoming happy at seeing this rare, vulnerable side of the man you loved. “You’re one of—if not—the strongest person I’ve ever met. You and Sammy were dealt a crappy hand. No matter how much those demons and Lucifer tried to get you to go darkside, you never did. You always fought to have control.” You forced yourself to smile at the compliment, it was the mention of a certain name that made the mood grow slightly sour. “I trust you, Y/N. With this deal, locking those sons of bitches up in the furnace once and for all, it’s too important not to.”

"You sure?” You asked him. “You aren’t against this anymore?”

“This is your fight to win, sweetheart. For us. And to make sure our kid has a better future.” Dean said. He took one hand off the wheel to grab your own to intertwine your fingers. Taking his eyes off the road once again for a few seconds, he kissed the back of your palm, a tender touch mixed in with what he was saying made your heart skip a beat. “So iIf you say you’re good, then that’s it. I’m with you one hundred percent.“

"I’m good, Dean.” You reassured the man. Your lips stretched into a smile from hearing the man finally come around to the plan. You softly squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Dean said, looking away from the road for a moment to give you a returning smile.

You looked forward once again from how everything seemed to work together the way you were hoping, and quicker than you expected. A few seconds passed before you felt a sort of tickle form in the back of your throat. It quickly turned into you letting out a few coughs you let out, not expecting much of it. Probably due to the heat running in the Impala or a dry throat. However you felt it turn into a deeper one, making you cover your mouth with your free hand. The coughing fit only lasted a few seconds before you felt it was over, thinking it wasn’t a big deal. You moved your hand away from your mouth and looked down, noticing that it felt slightly wet. Maybe it was a little bit of saliva…only what you saw was worse.

You felt your face drop at the sight of something that looked to be a dark color, too much for it to be mucus. A streetlight passed you by, illuminating the car with a little bit of light. You saw it enough to know what it was. Without Dean noticing, you wiped away the bit of blood onto your jeans, along with the little bit you could feel in the corner of your mouth. All traces of the blood was gone, but you could still taste the copper lingering on your tongue.


	15. Remember The Titans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is a repost. But the ending is vastly different from the previous version I had up. Cleared up some things to make the overall plot more understandable and edited some stuff around for your reading pleasure!

Every morning for the past nine weeks you’ve been greeted by the same kind of routine every morning; wake up, complain about some kind of new symptom or pain that showed up overnight, and your least favorite—running to the bathroom to either empty your bladder or puke your guts out. Sometimes you had the pleasure of doing both. All the suffering was worth it, not only because it meant you were progressing well into your pregnancy, but also you finally were about to get a break. The fourth month was upon you, which meant you were supposed to finally start feeling more like yourself again. And while it was true, you had a whole other problem about to come your way. One that you never expected.

It started a week into your fourth month; things seemed to have been going fine at first. Your morning sickness was subdued into a little nausea when you first woke up, but you still had the frequent urge to pee every five minutes. You still had a sensitivity to certain smells and bizarre cravings that made the boys uneasy whenever they saw you happily munching away. While it seemed like everything was going according to plan, you noticed that you craving something you didn’t read about online or the few baby books you owned. You were starting to crave…Dean.

You didn’t know where this sudden burst of affection came from for the man you loved. It came a few days into the fourth month when you woke up morning alone in bed, needing your man. You wanted to be near him every second of the day, and whenever you saw him you felt a sense of happiness rush over you. There was something about Dean that made you go crazy. You complimented on how adorable he looked first thing in the morning, or how handsome he was while doing the simplest task.

Dean had to admit at first he enjoyed being showered with compliments and seeing this rare side of you. You were always too busy with a case or crisis to make time for your love life. But as the week passed on, you were only getting more persistent to let him know how you felt. 

The compliments turned into you wanting to be by his side almost all the time, which was the complete opposite of how you used to be over the past few months. He could give you a simple look and you’d accidentally snap at him. Now you were kissing him and sitting on his lap, your fingers always trying to be on his body. On his shoulders, holding his hand in public. Running his fingers through his hair, telling him he’d look good with a beard. Dean wasn’t used to this.

Both of you showed your love and were no strangers to getting frisky when the mood called for it, but you knew there was a time and a place. And while it was always Dean who made a cheeky remark masqueraded as flirtation, you were doing it all of a sudden. He liked this new side of you for a little while…now it was starting to worry him. 

Dean brought up his concern when you offered him an innocent drink one night while he was skimming through the books in the library, it was a new kind of whiskey in one of the fancy Men of Letters glasses. You mentioned that you made a pit stop at the liquor store after running into town for some supplies and groceries. The final straw came when you told him how particularly handsome he looked without even trying, along with how you picked up his favorite for dinner: bacon cheeseburgers and pie. It made Dean cautiously eye the glass you handed over to him. One of those things made you sick to your stomach just a few weeks ago, now you were willingly making it for him without complaint?

“Are you drunk?” The question was random for Dean to ask you something like that, but it still somehow made you break out into a smile. You didn’t verbally answer the man, instead, you wrapped your arms around your neck to bring yourself closer to him. Dean balanced the drink when you nestled yourself into your favorite spot, right next to him. You continued to stare at him with a casual happy expression “Please tell me you’re not drunk.”

You felt your smile grow wider at the sight of his concern about your well being as and furrowed your brow from his odd sounding accusation he knew you’d never do in your condition. You quietly chuckled to yourself, as if you were finding all of this amusing. “What? Where did you get that idea?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been acting…” Dean tried to think of the proper words to say to explain without sounding too paranoid for his own good. He wanted to share his concern, without making it seem like he was being overprotective like how he promised he wouldn’t. “Weird.”

“I know I’ve been all over the place the past couple of months. But I feel different. Good different. Like, ‘I want to be by the man I love’ good. You know what I’m saying? My body is, you know…craving things.” You explained to him, showing him what you meant when you pressed your body closer to his and hovered your lips over his, just close enough that the slightest movement would connect yours to his. “Well, someone I should say.”

Dean thought about it for a second as you stared at him with an arched brow, waiting for him to connect the dots all on his own. When they did, you saw his lips stretch into a smirk. The kind you knew all too well. “You trying to tell me you’re horny?” 

“Sort of. But it’s more than just sex. I just want me and the baby to be near you.” You admitted to him the best way he would understand what you were going through at the moment. “I like our family being close. It’s comforting.” 

“Well, then come here, sweetheart.” Dean whispered. He wrapped a free arm around your waist, pulling you even somehow closer to him. In doing so, he felt your stomach that once was a little bump, barely there to be seen and could be camouflaged. Now it was a little more rounder and prominent when you wore shirts that were starting to become tighter. He loved the feeling. A few moments of silence fell between the both of you, enjoying this rare moment, until Dean thought of something he wanted to share. “You know, you got me thinking.”

"Hmm?” You leaned back slightly to look at him better in the eye as you arch your brow upwards in curiosity, quietly humming your response to hear what your boyfriend had to say. “What is that big brain of yours trying to tell me?”

“Over the past four years of being together with you, I’ve seen a few different sides of you. From crazy to bad ass. And while you never cease to make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” Dean said, his voice dropping to a whisper from what you heard him say next. And the subtle hint he was getting at. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do now.”

You felt your lips stretch into a smile at hearing his own words that somehow managed to make you feel a few different ways. Only Dean could fill with your stomach with butterflies, and yet at the same time make your raging hormones want to jump his bones even more. Whenever he did let his guard down to show you a genuine thought or emotion, you always loved it. You reached up to his level to express your reaction, not with words, but with actions in a way he would understand. You pulled on the collar of his shirt and pressed your lips against his own.

The both of you stood there letting a simple kiss turn into something much more deeper, and more than romantic. While you weren’t the one for PDA, liking to keep your affection for one another in private, especially around Sam, the thought of him being in the bunker along with you and stumbling upon the sight of you uncomfortably pressed against Dean’s body after he stumbled against the bookshelf with his only free hand still wrapped around your waist, the other still trying to hold onto the glass of whiskey you offered him that started all of this. You had all intentions of acting on your sudden changing hormones, that was, until you heard the inevitable clearing of the throat, coming from Dean’s little brother himself. 

You pulled yourself away from Dean when you realize it wasn’t the two of you anymore. Your cheeks felt like they were starting to feel a little too warm for your liking when you saw Sam standing there, innocently coming to the library to do something. Instead stumbling upon the sight of you and his brother getting a little too hot and heavy for his liking. You pretend like everything was normal, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and tugging your shirt back down in its place. Dean took a sip of his drink, knowing the both of you weren’t going to be getting back your activities until later tonight. 

“I’m gonna go…make dinner. I’ll tell you boys when it’s ready.” You said, trying to come up with some sort of excuse to get yourself out of here before things could get even more awkward than they already were. “Hope you’re hungry!”

“Not after seeing that.” You made a few steps across the way before you heard Sam mumble something underneath his breath. You didn’t miss a beat when you stopped in your tracks, turning back around to give the younger man a glare from his remark. You let him think he accidentally set off your temper, but you quickly broke out into a smile, knowing he was only joking.

You were about to let out a laugh to brush off the situation, but the thing that came out instead was a cough. You quickly covered your mouth and turned away from the boys, a sense of fear coming over you at what was happening. You slowly pulled your hand away when you felt the coughing stop, leaving behind something that felt wet on your skin. You expected to see the same dark red color you’d seen after driving back from your last hunt. Even though it was a little droplet and it happened once, you were driving yourself paranoid that it would happen again. 

You opened your palm and expected to see blood on your skin you needed to wash away immediately before one of the boys could find out. Only what you saw was nothing. It was just saliva, good old clear spit You let out a sigh of relief from what you saw, wiping it on your shirt and going on your way back to the kitchen to do what you promised. It didn’t take you too long to forget all about your worries, like how you had done just before, going back to your little world where everything was okay.

\+ + +

A few days later arrived your second formal appointment with the doctor you fussily picked that was going to overlook your pregnancy, and in five months, deliver your baby. You felt a little overwhelmed thinking about how fast your pregnancy was already going. You still had so much to do, and so little time when you thought about it. You laid on the examination table after one of the nurses directed you to a room after waiting for the doctor to finish up with another patient before getting to the both of you.

Dean occupied his time by looking around the room and slowly pacing around the small area, eyeing the medical thingamajigs and all sorts of informative posters about child birth. Dean promised you he was going to be there for you and the baby ever step of the way, from every doctor’s appointment up to the day you were going to greet the new addition to the family in the next handful of months. And he stuck to his word. No matter how this new world was starting to freak him out.

Dean found himself staring at an informative poster about pregnancy and birth, going into very specific details about the female reproductive system and the development of a fetus in the womb. He read all about everything that he knew about from health classes he took what felt like a lifetime ago, instead of boring him like it had when he was a teenager, thinking he’d never been in this kind of situation—a sense of fear came over him. He knew he was going to be a father, he wrapped his head around the fact that you were carrying his kid after seeing the first ultrasound picture. Today was the very first time he was going to see it in person, see their little movements. Hear the heartbeat, too. Discuss how Baby Winchester and Mommy was doing.

What he was freaking out at this very second was the fact that five months or so he was going to watch as you gave birth to this baby. They were going to be doing exactly what he was seeing in the poster. When you spoke his name after seeing him standing there for an awfully long time, you saw him turn around, looking much more paler than normal. You gave him a concerned look and how he was suddenly acting. When you asked him what was wrong, his response was surprising to say the least of what he was so worried about. You leaned back and dropped your concern, knowing there was nothing to worry about. For him, at least.

“I forgot how freaky childbirth is. I mean, there’s really gonna be a baby…” Dean tried to form the right words for what he was trying to say. Your brow scrunched up slightly when you saw him make a sliding motion with his hands, as if he was trying to demonstrate what he was getting at. Your confused look as to how he was handling this made him drop his arms back down to his side. “Popping out of you.”

“You know I’m the one who’s gonna have to do all the hard work, right?“ You told him for classification, wondering where he was going to the one who was in labor for God knows how long. You went through the ringer a few times when it came to torture and pain, but none of it quite covered contractions and pushing out a baby. "All you have to do is literally show up, hold my hand and pray I don’t break any of your bones from squeezing too hard. And try not to take to heart what I say while I’m pushing out your child.”

It was Dean’s turn to give you a look from what you said, making you smile at what he was in for. You heard a quick knock on the door before it opened, revealing the doctor that you had met a few times before. Dr. Linda Miller was one of the best in Kansas, that’s what a mother of two—soon to be three—told you while you were in the waiting room for your first appointment. Both of you got to talking while you were filling out your paperwork. She figured out this was your first child from your nervous foot tapping and lack of concentration. The mother reassured you were in good hands. Dr. Miller was an older woman who had been delivering babies long before you and her were even born.

Dr. Miller greeted you with a warm smile and a formal hello, like how she had for the first time meeting her. You returned the friendly behavior before you noticed her gaze fell onto the person she’d never met before. It wasn’t hard to guess who he was from his nervous behavior. You’d mentioned him in conversation before, and now she could finally put a face to the baby’s father.

“So, I’m guessing the cat’s out of the bag, huh?” She You felt your cheeks start to feel slightly warm from how you admitted to her about how you didn’t tell the baby’s father just yet. You were too nervous to see how he would react, and now he was the one freaking about all of this. “You must be Dean, right? I’m Dr. Miller. I’m going to be overlooking everything. You’re in good hands. I’ve been doing this since you two were in diapers of your own.”

The appointment went on like normal; you answered all the question she asked you about how you were feeling, what your diet consisted of, and other important information. She weighed you and checked your blood pressure to make sure you were on track, along with measuring your baby bump to make sure they were growing at the speed they were supposed to. All of it was boring things that you figured Dean wouldn’t be interested in. Whenever you glanced over his way to see how he was doing, you always expected him to be staring off into space or looking like he was regretting coming along. But he never did. He sat there and watched all of it unfold with complete and total concentration.

Near the end of the appointment came the part where you were the most excited about; the ultrasound. You lifted up your shirt and watched as Dr. Miller placed on a hefty amount of cold gel she needed in order to properly see the baby. In the matter of seconds you felt a slight uncomfortable pressure on your stomach, all of it was worth it when you saw it on the computer monitor; the fuzzy outline of the baby that you were carrying at this very moment.

Dr. Miller seemed happy from what she was seeing with the baby, everything seemed to be going on the right track with you and then. As if this couldn’t even feel more real, Dean realized he was seeing his unborn for the first time. He stared at the screen in awe, realizing the little gray blob was…his. His child.

“The baby might look small now, but this little peanut is gonna be growing a lot more over the next few weeks. So far, everything looks good. Which makes me happy. Now, let’s get to the fun part, huh?” Dr. Miller suggested what you had been waiting for before the appointment started. She fussed around with a few buttons until she got exactly what you’d been anticipating since this morning. “You hear that? Music to any new parents’ ears.”

The sound wave on the screen showed you how fast and strong the heartbeat of the baby was. It was a reminder that everything was okay, Dr. Miller remarked about how strong the heart sounded. You felt your hand slip off the exam table and towards the other you knew was creeping forward at what you were hearing. You and Dean slowly intertwined your fingers together and squeezed the flesh, as if to remind one another that this was real. The both of you were hearing your child’s heartbeat for the very first time and seeing their progress together.

You looked away from the screen and to your baby’s father, the man you loved with every fiber of your being. The one you planned on marrying and raising a family together. The both of you smiled at one another, in a kind of way that seemed like it was relief. And yet somehow all of this felt like you were finding out you were expecting for the first time. This was happening. You were getting your chance at starting a family and ending a curse that followed you for too long.

The baby was okay, they were strong. Despite what the both of you had went through with the first trial. They were going to be like their parents. In the best way possible.

\+ + +

Three weeks passed in total total since the last case you took, and with no progress from Kevin and radio silence from Cas. You and the boys could do nothing more than twiddle your thumbs to pass the time by. You had never waited so long for a case to drop into your lap. Most of the time somewhere in the country something creepy was going on. But…nothing. At this point you’d do anything to get out of the bunker. Maybe you’d pay Kevin a visit to encourage him to work on translating the tablet just a bit faster.

April was coming sooner than you thought, and if the prophet didn’t find out what the next trial was before then, Dean would win the deal you made with him. It was to help ease his mind a little more about what you were doing, you had no intention of keeping your word.

You hadn’t thought much about the next trial you were going to have to face, or what happened a few days afterwards when you completed the first one…and coughed up that little bit of blood. You had to admit it freaked you out a from what you saw. Blood was always a warning sign that something bad was going on. But it only happened once in the weeks that passed since then. The doctor said you and the baby were in perfect health. Long as you had her word and you were still keeping up with the same pregnancy symptoms, you weren’t going to worry yourself about something small.

You were showered and dressed for the day before anyone else, having had enough of trying to lay down and get more sleep. You had enough over the unexpected break to make up for the years of sleepless nights. to the times you were lucky to get a few. You were catching up on some notes Sam took from the books he’d been reading, along with trying to find a headline that might turn into a case. You took a small break after finishing off your glass of water and got up to get yourself another one.

During your questions about your diet, Dr. Miller reminded you to drink the eight glasses a day to stay hydrated for you and the baby. Even if it meant you had to pee every other hour. You filled it up from the sink that was conveniently in the war room as you dubbed it and headed back to where you had been working. Bringing the cup to your lips, you tried to take a sip of the drink, expecting the tasteless liquid. Only you stopped when you felt something else fill your mouth. It was warm and tasted a bit like iron.

Your face scrunched up in disgust at the bitterness and quickly spit it out into the cup, wanting to get it out before you threw up what little breakfast that you had. You lifted up the glass for inspection to see what it might be, presuming it might be your body’s way of reminding you about the morning sickness you were lucky enough to avoid for the past few weeks. Perhaps it was a bit of mucus. You had been complaining about a stuffy nose that was turning into a cold. What you saw was none of the above. It was something you thought was never going to happen again.

Your eyes widened at the once transparent color had turned into a dull orange shade. You knew what made the water turn that color. And why your mouth suddenly tasted like you were sucking on pennies.

You headed over back to the sink and spat out what was clearly blood, lots more of it from three weeks ago. This wasn’t a few droplets, it was a good amount to give you a scare. And there was no denying what it was from how the dark crimson color clashed with the porcelain white sink. Your tongue lightly brushed against your gums, wondering if you had accidentally brushed your teeth a little too hard. Dr. Miller warned you about how your gums might be more sensitive around this time of month.

Either way, you mindlessly dumped out the glass of water and turned back on the faucet, rinsing out the blood and your mouth as well, washing away any sort of evidence to prove something like this happened. It was bleeding gums, you told yourself. Nothing to worry about.

“What’s up with you?”

A familiar voice took you by surprise, making you jump slightly while you raised your mouth out from the blood that lingered behind. You spit out the water out to see that it was clear. Problem solved and avoided any questions. You wiped your damp hands on your jeans, turning around to see it was Dean who stumbled upon you bent over the sink. He stood there with a skeptical look on his face, clearly wide awake enough to know something weird was going on. You gave him a causal sort of smile in hopes it’d be enough to change the subject.

“Nothing.” You replied. “Why?”

Dean didn’t seem to believe one word you said from the way he kept staring at you for moment, to the point it was making you feel uncomfortable. It was as if he was trying to pick up on some kind of clue you weren’t telling him about. He gave up after you stood there and gave him an annoyed glare at his ever present cautious behavior, deciding for the best to change the subject. "Heard from Kevin?“

"No.” You said. You headed over to the table you saw Dean do the same and pulled out a chair to sit down and enjoy his cup of coffee. “Nothing yet.”

“What’s it been, like, three weeks? What’s taking that little brainiac so long?” Dean complained. “It’s a book. Read it.”

“Just a guess,” You said, a bit of sarcasm in the tone of your voice from his impatient behavior. “but translating an ancient language with zero help might be more difficult than we think.”

“So, no word from Cas, Kevin’s taking his sweet little time, and you’re acting all sorts of weird.” Dean said. You gave him a look from his unnecessary remark about your behavior that you couldn’t control. “We need a lead before I start climbing these walls.”

“Well, in that case, I can give you zombies.” You grabbed the newspaper you had been reading this morning and plopped it right down in front of Dean and took a seat next to him. You pulled out a chair next to his after he reached for the paper, slightly curious as to what you found. “Guy gets hit by a car, left for dead overnight, guts spilled out all over the road, then gets up and walks away from it.”

“Nothing about brain munching?” Dean asked, wanting more details before he decided this was something worth your time of looking into.

“Remember Bobby’s wife? She didn’t…” Your face scrunched up slightly from the rather nasty image he painted in your head from what you were about to say. “Munch on any brains.”

“Well, who’s the witness?” Dean was nothing but persistent when it came to questioning you about things he really didn’t want to be apart of. Sure, he was itching for a case, but a zombie wasn’t on his list or priorities he wanted to be dealing with right now.

“Montana state trooper, twenty-year vet. Checked his pulse, saw his insides spilled out all over the place, pronounced him dead with a capital ‘D.’” You told him what you knew from the news article was able to give you, which was enough to make you curious to see what this was really all about. You reclined back in your seat and placed a hand on your belly to start slowly rubbing in a small circular motion, something you had been since after you were starting to show more. “What do you say? Good enough for you, or do you want to see if you’re Spider-man?”

Dean shut the newspaper he skimmed after you told him everything he needed to clear about becoming convinced. It wasn’t everyday he got to hunt some zombies. You raised your brow in curiosity, waiting for his answer. He reached for his cup of coffee and began to drink it, knowing he was going to need all the caffeine he could get. it a little faster. You got up from your seat and smiled at him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek for agreeing to the first case you had in almost a month before heading off in of search for Sam, telling him all about the hunt you found.

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys were at the Great Falls police department to speak to the sheriff who had found your John Doe zombie, Jack Wilson. Twenty year vet who didn’t seem like the type of person who’d lie about such a thing. Even in a small town you were sure the officer had seen his fair share of crazy. Seeing a dead body run off? That wasn’t an everyday thing one sees while on the job. You found the officer at his desk, a little confused as to why three federal agents were wasting their time on such a strange case when there was more pressing matters going on around the country.

“Since when have the feds started tracking zombie activity?” The officer asked all of you.

“We don’t track zombie activity because there’s no such thing as zombies.” You informed the man, Jack didn’t seem to believe the lie you were feeding him from the way he responded. You cleared your throat and folded your hands in front of you, wanting to get down to the reason why you were here in the first place. “Why don’t you tell us what you saw?”

“Article said it all—dead as dog poop, guts pecked out, face frozen. People don’t walk away from that.” Jack said. It seemed he was sticking to his story, and there was nothing you could say to change his mind. You pretended to believe what he was saying was some kind of joke from the way you turned your head, hiding the smile that crossed your lips. The real reason why you were smiling was because he might have been right. And it was more than just the kind of monster he saw in the shows and movies. “Zombies do.”

“And you don’t think something could have dragged him away?” Dean asked, hoping for more solid proof that you were in fact dealing with a Night of the Living Dead situation than someone who was losing his marbles.

“One set of footprints, no drag marks.” He said.

“You didn’t go after him?” You wondered.

“That’s grizzly country. You couldn’t pay me enough to hike those woods.” Jack said, knowing it would be a suicide mission not even his twenty years of service made him prepared not. Well, not without some kind of assistance that made him crack a smile. “Not without a bazooka.”

“Uh, Jack? I got something here.” Your conversation was interrupted when his assistant came across a police report that seemed like something all of you would be interested in. You looked over your shoulder to see she had a coroner report pulled up on on her computer, along with a dead body that seemed pretty torn up. “Came across the wire from Livingston.”

All of you headed over to her desk and bent down to see what the report had to say. You stared at the people of the dead body with deep wounds on his chest and body from what you could see. “John Doe—presumably mauled by a grizzly.” Jack read the report before looking over at the picture of the deceased. It only took a second for the dots to connect together as to why the dead body looked so familiar to him. “Holy crap, that’s him.”

“That’s the dead guy?” Dean asked.

“Dead my ass.” Jack mumbled. He backed away slowly and pointed a finger at the screen from what he was about to accuse the dead body of being. After all, he seen the face just a few days ago before he vanished only to pop up again in the next county over. “That’s a zombie, kids.”

“Uh, you know what, trooper? Why don’t you stay here? We’ll take care of this one.” Sam said, persuading the officer to stay where he needed to after he hastily put on his belt and get himself ready to head out. “We need someone to hold down the fort.”

“You sure?” Jack asked all of you, concerned for what kind of danger you might be walking into.

“Yeah, if things go all ‘Dawn of the Dead’ on us, you’ll be our first call.” Dean reassured him.

You managed to make it a few steps before the officer caught you attention, wanting to give you all a bit of advice for what you were about to get yourself into. As if you hadn’t dealt with people back from the dead before. “Kids, aim for the head.”

You smiled at his what he thought was helpful piece of before heading back around for the front door. This wasn’t your first rodeo when it came to a zombie who liked to eat an organ here and there after being resurrected from the dead. The real problem was trying to figure out if you were in fact dealing with a flesh-eating monster. Or a cop who was going crazy and you were wasting your time on a case that was going nowhere.

\+ + +

John Doe was good as dead. The body lying on the metal table was of the same face you saw back in Great Falls, the one that lead you here to Montana in the first place. You stood next to the coroner with your arms over your chest while the boys stood beside the corpse, finding anything that might indicate a sign of undead life. The deep scars on his chest and face were just as deeply disturbing as they were in the picture, indicating he was in fact mauled to death. The real question was who he was, and how he was able to run to another county—only to face his fate. Human or zombie, there was no way anybody could win a fight against a grizzly.

“No I.D. on this guy?” Sam asked the coroner who did the autopsy, wondering if he had any luck with dental records or fingerprints. Anything that might be able to put a name to a face.

The coroner shook his head from the lack of answers he could provide. “Fingerprints came up blank, too.”

Dean took the opportunity to take a better look at the body. He stepped forward to the victim’s mouth, pushing up his top lip to reveal a set of teeth that looked in tact with gums that looked bloody from the injuries he sustained. But nothing to cause suspicion on your end. You let out a sigh of defeat when Dean shook his head at the lack of psychical evidence of your own that might help figure out what was going on here.

Sam inspected more of the body and lifted up part of the white sheet, discovering a rather deep gash in John Doe’s side that seemed worth mentioning. You took a few steps forward so you were standing next to the younger Winchester, wanting to take a peek at it for yourself when he asked the coroner about it. “What’s going on down here?”

“Liver was eaten.” He answered. “Best guess a bird got at it.”

You and the boys quickly exchanged a glance at one another at what you discovered here that looked like a bunch of nothing. The evidence and testimony from the sheriff weren’t adding up. There was no way your John Doe was a zombie. You took a wild guess and presumed he made a run for it after being discovered by the officer. He was probably in and out of consciousness from his injuries he sustained. His brain set off some adrenaline that made him run for the woods for some kind of safety, only it ended up with him having a face to face with a grizzly bear that ended his life once and for all.

You’d call his death a mercy killing after what the poor bastard went through. From the injuries on his body he went through the ringer a few times with Mother Nature being the winner. He could finally be put to rest after running for his life, for whatever reason that might have been. 

You thanked the coroner for his time and help before following behind the boys after discovering this wasn’t your type of case to waste your time on. John Doe would end up like the rest of unidentifiable bodies in America, unless someone came forward to claim him. You were a little bit bummed at how things turned out. Dean was, too. Just not for the reason you were thinking about. You wanted a case to keep all of you busy while Kevin continued translating the tablet for the next trial, Dean wanted to see a little undead action. It’d been a few years for yourself since you got to see and play with one.

“I got to say,” Dean said, letting out a sigh from the dead end all of you hit. You didn’t even need to hear his words when you rolled your eyes from how this turned out, heading into the empty hallway to find your way out of here.“I am a little disappointed.”

“Yeah,“ Sam said, knowing exactly the reason why. ”'cause you wanted to shoot zombies.“

"Damn straight I wanted to shoot some zombies. Look, guys, this is about as open-and-shut as it gets, all right?” Dean came to the conclusion you had after inspecting the body with a closer examination. You stopped in the middle of the deserted hallway to talk a little more about the case, your back to the window that looked into the morgue. “Guy gets Mack-trucked, goes down for a nap, wakes up, takes a detour to mama bear’s den—end of story.”

“Then why would he run?” Sam asked the question that was bothering him the most about this case. Nothing felt like it was adding up right. “He was injured. That trooper could have helped him.”

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders. “Shady past?”

“Y/N, don’t guys with a shady past usually have fingerprints on file?” Sam asked. You had to agree with that point, unless your John Doe was good at cleaning up his tracks. It didn’t seem likely from how he ended up. Dead in the middle of Nowhere, Montana.

You placed your hands on your hips and racked your brain for what possible reason why a man on the edge of death would run from the only possible chance at him surviving his injuries. You and the boys were so wrapped up in the conversation of trying to make sense of this, you didn’t realize your John Doe was about to revive himself back from the dead.

"Maybe he wasn’t running from trouble. What if he was running from danger? And he was too scared to get help?” You thought out loud, finding yourself poundering on the idea that this might be your kind of thing again. You bit the inside of your cheek from how your theory was turning you down the supernatural path. It wasn’t likely he was killed by a monster that you hunted, but what if he witnessed something of the sorts? He was too afraid to trust the cops, if he told his story it might end up with him spending a few days in a mental hospital. “Whatever it was, the guy’s dead now. I guess it’s case closed for us.”

“Remember what Bobby said, hmm? 'Wood chipper beats everything.’” Dean said. You felt a small smile tug at the ends of your lips from the mention of the older hunter and his words of wisdom. You let out a loud sigh from how you thought this was a case, only to be solved by nature itself. “Yeah, well, so does grizzly bear.”

“Guess so.” You turned around to take one last look at the dead body before heading out of here for good, thinking your job was dead. It was now in the hands of the police to pick of the pieces and figure out who the man was. When you peered into the window, you felt yourself suddenly feeling very confused as to what you weren’t seeing. You furrowed your brow at the sight of the metal table…now empty. "There was a dead body in there five seconds ago, right?”

A presumed dead body running around the police station was enough to freak anyone out. You and the boys quickly made a run for it after finding out your John Doe wasn’t so dead after all. Luckily for you, the basement level of the station was empty without a soul besides your own and the one walking down the hall wearing nothing more than the white sheet. Dean managed to grab your John Doe before he could get too far, pushing him back into the room where he woke up in, making him cooperate from the loaded gun pointed at him.

“You better start talking. What are you?” Dean questioned the man, pushing across the room until he shoved him face down on the metal table where he once laid. You headed over to the window to shut the blinds to give you all privacy, not wanting anyone to stumble upon your own interrogation. Or explain why a man once pronounced dead was breathing all of a sudden. Dean shoved the barrel of his gun against the man’s neck to prove he wasn’t fooling around. “If you say 'zombie,’ I swear—”

“What?!” The man exclaimed, growing fearful from everything that was happening at once. You weren’t’ sure what was making him scared. Waking up naked in a morgue, or having a stranger pointing a loaded gun at him asking him all sorts of questions he couldn’t answer. “No, I’m not anything.”

“Look, two minutes ago, you were room temperature.” Dean said. His voice was serious, almost threatening sounding towards the stranger. “You’re something.”

“Look, I don’t know what I am, okay? I don’t know who I am. All I know is all I do is die, so if you want to shoot me, shoot me.” The man said, giving you some insight on his life. And how none of this was new to him. “Just promise me you’ll finish the job, 'cause I can’t take this anymore.” 

You weren’t a stranger to death yourself, you lost count how many times you had your life cut short. But you weren’t to the point where you were wanting to embrace it with open arms. You and the boys were confused as to what was going on here. As a sign of trust, Dean backed away from the man allowing him to stand up, but he remained on the cautious side when he kept the gun pointed at him if he tried to pull a stunt that would end him back where he was a few minutes ago.

You examined the man’s body that was once covered in bear claw marks after supposedly being attacked by a grizzly that was the cause of his death. He seemed in perfect health. There was nothing you could see. Not a single claw mark, no open gash on his upper torso. Not even the faintest scar of the attack was on his body. It was all as if nothing happened.

“All you do is die?” Sam repeated after the man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Once a day, for long as I can remember.” The man explained best as he could for you and the boys to understand. “After a few hours, I’m back.”

“What are you, like a real-life Kenny?” Dean wondered, referencing a character on a TV show the man didn’t seem to watch from his confused reaction.

“Who?” He asked, not sure what the older Winchester was talking about. You rolled your eyes from how Dean’s timing could be when it came to these kind of things. “No, my name is Shane.”

“All right, well, listen Shane, we’re not gonna find out what the hell you are in here, so you’re gonna come with us, okay?” Dean said, telling the man how things were gonna go for him and all of you. “We’re gonna run a few tests, make sure everything’s kosher.”

The word tests made Shane a little nervous to trust three strangers he never met before up until just a few minutes ago, not sure how this was going to end. But what was the worst thing that could happen? You kill him? He already proved that not even death could hold him. Lucky for him, it was your job to figure out strange things like him. And how to put them down for good.

\+ + +

You and the boys headed back to the motel to figure out exactly what the stranger named Shane was—and how he was able to bring himself back from the dead. There was a few unorthodox methods a hunter used to make sure the stranger they were about to help really wasn’t the monster they were trying to track down, using a cheap trick to get into their good graces. The first one was the most painful; Dean ran a very sharp silver blade over Shane’s forearm, drawing up blood from the cut he inflicted. The only kind of response you got was a slightly hissing sound at the prickling feeling, no burning of skin or cries of agony from the burning feeling. That ruled out anything with a weakness of silver.

You sprinkled a little bit of Borax over his hand to make sure he wasn’t a leviathan when he was distracted by the wound, no sight of more skin burning meant he wasn’t any of the creatures the boys faced against during your year of absence. He was almost in the clear, there was just one more test that mattered the most. Dean wiped the blade clean from the bandanna he pulled out from the back of his slacks and put it over Shane’s still bleeding wound.

You handed over the flask filled with holy water and ordered him to drink it, ignoring his remark about your tests. Shane cautiously sniffed the contents inside to see what it was, as if he was worried that you were going to poison him. When he smelt nothing, he took a sip of the liquid, only to find out it tasted like water. Good old holy water. Harmless to humans, like acid for demons. He swallowed it down like it was nothing. No smoking, no choking. You grabbed the flask back from him and screwed the top back on, letting out the slightest bit of relief to see that he might be the slightest bit human…ish.

You still didn’t understand how he dodged death. It felt like you and the boys were the only lucky ones who managed to snag a “get out of death” free card a few too many times. That’s because you knew a few tricks and had friends in high places. Shane seemed like a regular old Joe, someone who didn’t know what was going on himself. Which you knew didn’t help you out.

“All right, so, how long has this dying thing been going on?” Dean asked the man, wanting to get some information to wrap his head around what was going on with him.

“As long as I can remember, but my memory only goes back a few years.” Shane said.

“Wait, so now you have amnesia?” You asked. You brow arched up ever so slightly in surprise at the progression of the things you were learning about this man, what little there was of him it seemed like it. “How do you know your name?”

“My real name isn’t Shane. It was given to me because…I don’t know,” The man shrugged, not sure of a better kind of excuse to explain the missing gaps in his memory. “people had to call me something.”

“Okay. So, then,” Sam slowly asked, “what happened to you?”

“Got pulled off a mountain in Europe. They said that I got caught up in an avalanche. I don’t remember anything from before the rescue. When I realized my condition, I knew I couldn’t be around other people, so I built a little cabin, learned to hunt, kept to myself. Seemed easiest that way.” Shane said, telling you the story about the things that he knew. You crossed your arms over your chest and listened to how things seemed quiet enough for him, until he went on with more details about how death never stopped trying. “Then a couple pot growers grew nervous with me being so near their crop. Shot me— twice. I figured it was time to move on.”

“Right into the grille of that pickup.” Dean said, finishing the rest of the story that lead all of you here to this very moment.

Shane fell silent for a moment after clearing up the situation, and telling you much as he knew to all of you. He realized that dying was a rather messy situation. Even with his body healed from all the injuries, he felt the need to get himself more comfortable knowing that he was going to be sticking around in your custody. “You think maybe I could clean up?”

“Yeah, man. Knock yourself out.” Dean said, pointing a finger to the open door leading to the bathroom. You stepped out of his way while flashing a small smile, knowing all of this was a lot for Shane to process. You handed back the flask to Sam who tucked it away into the inside pocket of his suit jacket for safekeeping the next time all of you might need it. “Well, that’s definitely something.”

“Yeah, but maybe he’s not the monster.” Sam suspected. “Maybe he’s the victim.”

“You thinking curse?” You curiously asked.

“Could be looking for a witch, yeah.” Sam said. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest from the mention of the creature you took down before your hiatus from the trials and hunting. Because the last time you dealt with one ended so well with things. You really didn’t want to go face to face with another one. But if you had to, so be it. Right now you had more pressing matters to worry about, like the revived amnesiac man in your motel room bathroom. “You know what? He’s parked here. He’s safe. Maybe it’s not a bad idea if we get another room and I bunk with him until we can figure this out.”

“All right,” Dean agreed with his brother’s plan, thinking it was the best option you had. Only on one condition. “but you’re the one going full-cavity for the hex bag.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you cracked the smallest of a smile from the burden thrown at Sam to figure out exactly why Shane was unsuspectable to death like a normal person. You stepped over to the younger man and gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder from the suggestion of who might be to blame backfired in his face. He didn’t seem the least bit amused like you and his brother were. You headed off back to your own motel room when the discomfort of the heels matched with your dress pants became too much. First things first, you needed to change into some pants that could let you breathe freely. And then it was time to figure out the strange case of Shane and his immunity to dying.

\+ + +

Later into the evening you were back in your own motel room lying on the bed with your laptop propped up on your outstretched legs and Dean by your side, occupying himself by watching some TV to pass the time. Sam took the table after Shane fell asleep, deciding to be polite and crash in your room to do some research before wanting to get some shuteye himself. You and Sam were doing your own separate research to find some sort of answer to figure out what was going on here. So far you were find a whole lot of jack squat, but you were determined to get your answer. It was out there somewhere, and if anyone could find it, you could.

While you were scrolling through your latest search that didn’t seem like much compared to the rest of the websites you checked out, the information you were reading was enough to keep your attention and forget about the voices coming from the TV you barely could hear. It was when you got to an interesting part of the article you were reading that a noise broke your concentration, and jump slightly out of Dean’s embrace he had around your shoulders at the unexpected banging noises that caught you off guard. You heard another noise just a few seconds later, making you realize it was coming from the motel room next to yours. The one Sam was supposed to be sharing with Shane, who was supposed to be fast asleep.

You furrowed your brow in confusion from the noises you were hearing, pushing your laptop off to the bed and swinging your legs around so you were sitting on the side. Dean turned off the TV and immediately jumped to his feet, grabbing the knife he had stashed underneath his pillow for emergencies like this. Sam shut his own laptop and slowly stood up when the noises went on and growing even louder. You lingered behind in your own motel room when the boys decided to check things out and figure out what was making all the noises.

You made sure not to be a sitting duck if things went south, you grabbed Dean’s pistol from the duffel bag and made sure it was loaded like always and ready for whoever might come your way. Maybe Shane accidentally stumbled his way through the motel room, it was pretty dark at this time of night. But you had a feeling that wasn’t the real reason. It never was that simple when you were on hunts like this. You always had to be cautious with danger lurking all around.

Dean opened up the door to the motel room to stumble upon a sight he wasn’t expecting; a woman dressed all in black fighting with Shane, who seemed to have some moves from what the man could see in the darkness. He decided to take his shot against the stranger, welding up the knife after he saw she had one of her own that she was trying to use against Shane. Dean was no amateur when it came to fighting, but he only lasted a few seconds, not even able to throw a few punches before he lost his footing after the woman tripped him, making him fall right on his back. Sam headed into the room to try and intervene, but it seemed what him and his brother were going up against wasn’t human.

You remained by the window with the curtain drew back sightly what was going on in the next room over. So far all you were hearing was more noises and banging sounds, no clue as to how things were progressing. You remained vigilant with the gun by your side and finger on the trigger, ready to do what you needed in order to keep yourself and the boys safe. When you peered out closer to the window when you heard the noises grow louder, you noticed something go flying out the door, making you curious as to what it was. When you peered closer to the window, you looked down at the sidewalk to see something lying on the floor. It took you only a second to realize what it was, or should you say who.

“Sammy!” You called out the younger man’s name in a panicked voice when you saw it was him who was lying on the concrete after being thrown out by some kind of force. You headed over to him, crouching down to make sure he was all right. Besides the unexpected twist in events, he seemed all right, enough for the both of you to figure out who the hell Shane was fighting.

You followed behind Sam when he headed back to the motel room to see Shane was fighting the woman again, matching with her rather impressive fighting skills that were no match against someone like him. You watched as the both of them ducked it out, blocking each thrown punch and kick, Shane dodging the knife she had when she attempted to use it against him. Shane somehow managed to grab the knife and twist her arm in an angle that made her cry out from pain, sending her to stumble forward. And in some swift and smooth motion, Shane threw the woman against the wall, pointing the knife against her throat, having a question for her all of you had been thinking yourselves.

“Who are you?” Shane demanded to know.

The woman didn’t flinch from the feeling of the blade against her cheek, or break her eye contact with Shane while she stared at him. It was four against one. But she wasn’t sticking around long enough to see were things could go. She slowly wrapped her fingers around Shane’s wrist, telling him exactly who she was. “Now I’m your worst enemy.”

And just like that, all of you watched as she moved her grasp to the knife, letting herself and the weapon disappear into a puff of smoke. You stepped inside the room now that the coast was clear, your mind was suddenly running with too many questions that demanded to be answered from what you just witnessed. The only one you managed to get out was, “Who the hell was that?”

Shane seemed baffled much as you were from what just went down. He felt himself too out of breath to answer your question, he inhaled a few deep ones before admitting the only truth he knew for sure. “She—She said she knew me.”

“Yeah, how?” Sam questioned the man, shutting the motel room door to give you all privacy.

“I don’t know, but I could have sworn that she was upset I didn’t know her back.” Shane said. He found himself finding the ability to breathe getting hard to do so, you furrowed your brow slightly when you saw him leaning against the wall before grabbing his left arm, like it hurt. You guessed it was from the fight that he was just in, but the way he was behaving was starting to make you concerned it was something more.

“This is a lot more than a curse, man. You’ve got, like, some tiger blood.” Dean said, impressed at the fighting skills the man seemed he didn’t know he had. “Where did you learn that kung fu?”

Shane couldn’t answer the question when he felt himself falling to his knees at the sudden stabbing pain in his chest, the grip around his arm went directly to where his heart was. You had a feeling he wasn’t having a panic attack from the way he was pressing a hand against his chest and the feeling he was enduring at the moment.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Sam asked the man in a concerned tone of voice from the way he was suddenly acting that was starting to make you wonder if something else was going on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just need a minute.” Shane mumbled, managing to take a deep breath in some kind of attempt to help ease the sudden chest pain that came out of nowhere. “I’ve never been in a fight in my whole life.”

You would beg to differ from the impressive moves you saw the guy do, things that you highly doubt a normal person would be capable of. Shane suddenly let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a gasp, and like someone was restricting his airflow. Your eyes grew wide at the sight you were seeing, and how you could make it stop before things could get worse for him. But it didn’t seem like you had much time when Shane let out a few more strangled breaths before falling to the ground.

“Is he having a heart attack?” Dean asked, as if it wasn’t clear enough.

“Do we call 911?” Sam wondered, you rolled your eyes at his suggestion.

“And tell them what?” You asked him. “That the dead guy he stole from the morgue is alive and having a coronary?”

What was there really to do? You and the boys watched as Shane slowly withered on the floor from the excruciating pain he must have been feeling. You hoped this death was the most quick out of the ones that he suffered through before, watching as in the matter of minutes he slowly stopped moving. You checked his pulse after slightly nudging him with your foot, coming to the conclusion he was in fact dead…Again.

\+ + + 

Coming back from the dead took some time, at least, that’s what it was like for you when you kicked the bucket after the countless time it happened to you. The boys moved Shane’s body from the floor to the bed wanting to make his resurrection at least more comfortable from the few times he endured before. There wasn’t much for any of you to do while you waited around for something to happen with Shane’s body. You just stared at his lifeless corpse, waiting for some kind of movement to see his body was healing himself. Or whatever was happening to the poor bastard.

Heart attacks strike at random times with no warning, mostly to older folks with clogged arteries. Why did it happen to someone who seemed healthy? Maybe being shot at, hit by a car and then a bear triggered it. Shane didn’t have a clue what was going on with him, neither did you or the boys. Morning came around and still no sign of life from Shane after you checked his pulse once again to see if there was any changes. You hated when things got like this, even more confusing with questions you couldn’t answer. All you could do was let out a sigh of frustration.

“I feel like I’m sitting Shiva.” Dean mumbled, growing antsy himself from the lack of progress in the past few hours with absolute no change.

“Well, that’s not—nevermind. We need to think.” Sam said, deciding not to waste his breath on correcting his brother on how to properly use the saying. Instead, using the time to brainstorm out loud. “Guys, what do we know of that has Jason Bourne fighting skills, dies a lot, and has a history with violent women?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and began to try and wrack your brain of the knowledge you knew about the supernatural, along with any possibilities of things you came across in the past. You found your eyes wandering over to someone who crossed your mind, and it seemed you weren’t the only one when you and Dean happened to tell his younger brother the person the both of you thought of. It was in fact the younger Winchester. He fit the profile to a T, after all. “You?”

Sam’s face dropped at hearing your guess that he wasn’t the least bit amused with, you shrugged your shoulders from the lack of proper answers you could give him. You were stumped about this much as he was about what was going on to Shane, and how he was jumping in and out of death. Your brainstorming session was momentarily put on pause for the time being when your attention was drawn to the motel room door, after someone knocked on it. You furrowed your brow slightly at who was here so early in the morning.

Dean stood up from the bed and headed over to the window, slowly drawing back the curtain to see who was standing outside on the steps. He saw a woman with her hands in her jacket pockets, waiting for someone to answer while she looked around the parking lot. She might look normal, but nothing was it seemed to the naked eye. He headed over to the door and pressed his gun against the door as a step of precaution before opening it enough only to let half of his body show. You were tempted to reach for your own weapon if things were to go down like how they had hours ago.

“May I help you?” Dean asked the stranger.

“Agent Boham?” The woman addressed him by the name he gave to the police department.

Dean stared at the woman for a second as to why she would know such a thing, cautious about the possibility she might be working with said people. After all, they were sort of one short of a body. “And you are?”

“This is gonna sound really strange, but I’m looking for a corpse that went missing today. The coroner said that you were the last one to see it.” She said. Dean watched as she pulled a rolled up newspaper that was tucked underneath her arm, showing him the same news article you had that lead him here. Proving she wasn’t a cop looking for the body, but someone who seemed to personally know him. “I’m Haley.”

“Uh,” Dean opened up the door wider to introduce you and his brother when the both of you headed over to see who he was talking to. You peeked out from Sam’s large frame, spotting the woman…and a little boy by her side. You greeted him with a friendly smile, and a slightly cautious expression as to why she was here in the first place no early in the morning and asking questions that made you suspicious of her. “This is Agent Jones and Agent Clyde.”

“Why are you looking into our John Doe?” Sam questioned the woman for her reason of being here, and as to why she brought a child along to see a dead body.

“Well, his name is Shane. At least, that’s what I called him.” Haley explained herself to all of you, and dropping a bombshell you weren’t expecting. Your gaze fell to the little boy next to her side again when you realized who he was. “I’m the mother of his son.”

Haley was no threat to all of you, as a matter of fact, she was the only person you had with a connection to the man. Dean swiftly tucked away his gun into the back of his jeans and opened the door wider, crouching down to her son that had to be no more older than seven or eight. He gave him a smile and placed up his hand, trying to ease the situation with a high five. "Hey. Why don’t you slap some skin, huh?”

Her son didn’t seem to be in a friendly mood towards a couple of new faces he had never seen before, probably confused and a little bit scared at what was going on. “He’s shy.” Haley said, wrapping an arm tighter around her son’s shoulder when he pressed himself closer against her side. “It’s okay, Oliver.”

Haley comforted her child before moving her gaze upwards again, and into the motel room she could see clearly into now that the door was wide open at this point. Her eyes locked on a body of a lifeless man she’d been tirelessly searching for. Dean realized the mistake he made from the expression that crossed her made, and knowing how it wasn’t helping Oliver feel more comfortable at the sight of a dead body. “Oh, you weren’t supposed to see—”

“It’s okay.” Haley mumbled as some kind of reassurance. Her focus was kept on the man when she squeezed by Dean and into the motel room, looking over her shoulder to give instructions to her son to make sure he stayed out of trouble. “Stay with the nice FBI agents, Oliver.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Haley approach Shane’s lifeless body, a sight that no child should see. Dean stood back up to try and block the sight from Olver as an attempt to make him feel more safe. You tried to take a crack at making him feel more comfortable around you. You crouched down the best that you could so you were at eye level with him and gave the kid a big, warm smile. You outstretched your hand for him to shake, only he left you hanging. He didn’t do anything but stand there, you retracted your hand back to your side, deciding it was best to talk to him in a calm and comforting voice.

“Hi, Oliver. My name is Y/N. This is Dean, and that guy is Sam.” You introduced yourself and the boys to Oliver, pointing at each of them for him to remember who was who. “The grown ups need to talk about some stuff that you probably won’t care about. In the meantime, why don’t we do something fun? Do you like to swing?” Oliver nodded his head slowly, making you smile at his response. “Me too. Why don’t you let me grab my jacket and we can do that.”

You pushed yourself back up to your feet and quickly grabbed your jacket from the seat, slipping it on and heading outside to meet Oliver again. You outstretched your hand once again for him to take it, and suprislnyl , he did. You gave him another smile and headed over to the swing-set that happened to be only a small distance around from the motels, giving Oliver something to do while his mother confirmed it was the same man she had been searching for years.

Oliver took a seat on one of the swings and you pushed him for a few minutes, trying to make small talk with him about how everything was going to be okay or if he wanted to go higher. He didn’t say a single word in the few minutes that you were with him, making your heart ache for what he must be going through at the moment. So confused, and a little bit scared at the things he was hearing. One of the worst things about this job was when kids got involved, even if they were just around to hear the grown ups talk about things that went bump in the night. They should be able to maintain that slightest bit of innocence before the real world ruined it.

You continued pushing Oliver on the swing for another few minutes before you saw Haley and the boys step out from the motel room and headed over to the picnic table to talk among themselves. You told Oliver that you needed to speak to his mother and you’d be back soon, he didn’t respond with a single word. You let out a sigh and headed over to the table, taking a seat next to Haley to hear her side of the story about how she got herself into this situation.

“When I was younger, I had friends that wanted to climb this mountain in Europe, and I thought it sounded exciting…so I joined them.” Haley said, telling you the story about how she met a man with no name and the fateful night that caused her to fall pregnant with his child.

“The avalanche?” You asked, having a feeling you knew how the two met.

“He—He told you?” Haley sounded surprised at the bit of information you and the boys knew, hopeful there was more to share. “What else did he say?”

“Just that he doesn’t remember how he got there.” Sam said, telling her possibly Shane’s first and only memory he could recollect from this cycle of living and dying through the years.

“My friends were gone, and when I found him, his clothes were torn off, his eyes were frozen solid, but he was still alive.” Haley said. “I just knew there was something off about him, the way that…he would—”

“Die everyday?” Dean finished the woman’s sentence, having a feeling where she was trying to g with this story. Haley fell silent for a moment at how you seemed to catch onto the pattern. You seen it a few times and heard about his previous incidences about Shane’s odd habits and the universe’s fun toying with his life over and over again.

“Yeah. I thought it was from exposure or shock. Maybe he was unconscious. We were both in bad shape. And I couldn’t have made it down the mountain if it weren’t for him.” Haley continued on, the smallest smile spreading across her lips at the memory of the time. Despite it being hell and torture, something came of it. A connection forged in a near life experience. For her, at least. “And when we got to the bottom, we…realized that it had become something else, and we spent the night together, and while were, you know…He had a heart attack.”

Your eyebrows shot up at the twist in the story you weren’t expecting, Dean sounded takenback himself from the mumbled response. “Awkward.”

“So, I called 911, and they couldn’t save him.” Haley went on. “And I had to go down to I.D. the body…“

“He popped up again.” Sam said. “Alive.”

“I freaked out. And I ran. And nine months later, I had Oliver.” Haley looked over her shoulder and to her son, who was still swinging by himself, but at a much slower pace than when you had been with him. You noticed his head was hanging low, making you feel even worse for some reason. There was a part of you that was telling you there was something wrong with him, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. The more you observed him, the more the worry for him grew and his well being. “I hired a private investigator. I really tried to find him, but when they gave up, I gave up. Until a couple of months ago.”

“Now, what made you look again?” You asked her out of curiosity.

“The worst thing.” Haley said, her voice cracking slightly.

The way she responded to your question made you wonder what she was talking about, and why she grew emotional all of a sudden. You were tempted to try and get more information out of her, but before you could even get a single word out, your attention was drawn somewhere else. One of the doors to the motel room opened up and stepped out Shane, who was looking for alive than he had from the last time you saw him. He stood on the small porch area that overlooked the parking lot, as if he was trying to figure out where you and the boys went. He noticed all of you were sitting not too far away, but it was the sight of a face that he remembered from when he spoke it, and in a rather surprised voice after all these years.

Haley pushed herself up to her feet and began walking over to the man when he began to do the same. She called for her son to join her side, deciding it was time to act on the reason why the both of them were here in the first place. She held Oliver close to her side and gave Shane a smile from what she was about to say. “I thought it was time you two meet. This is Oliver.”

It didn’t take very much effort for the dots to start connecting in Shane’s mind from what why Haley was introducing her to this seven year old, or why Oliver looked an awful lot like him. The night they shared together didn’t just end with her finding out about his condition, it caused them to have a child together.

You found yourself standing outside for a little longer than you anticipated just to watch the sight of Shane personally meet his son for the very first time, and reunite with the woman who helped save his life from years of misery and from hers being cut so short after losing the friends that brought here there in the first place. She would have died on the mountain, he would have suffered countless freezing cold deaths. Even though they knew each other for a short time, there was no denying you saw something between them that never faded from that night. Shane pushed his son on the swing while Haley was close by. A bonge forged from tragedy.

You heard the motel door open, breaking your concentration on the family to see that it was Dean bearing gifts in the form of a ceramic mug filled with what little caffeine you were allowed to have and a bottle of your prenatal vitamins you almost forgot to take. You gave him a smile and mumbled a thank you from remembering and swallowed down the pill, giving you one less thing to worry about today. He joined you at your spot next to the porch staircase to silently observe the parents that were playing with their son, at least, to an outsider’s perspective.

It was weird to think that it might you and Dean in the near future. Hopefully the whole “Dad coming back from the dead” thing wouldn’t be attached to their growing up. That was years in the making, you still needed to have the child to worry about things like that.

When you heard the motel door room open and shut for a second time, you looked over your shoulder to see it was Sam heading down to join you and his brother after spending some time doing more research. “Did you find anything?” You asked him, taking another sip of your drink.

“Well…looks like we were right about the whole curse thing.” Sam said. “From what I can tell, we’re looking at a titan.”

“A titan?” You repeated after the man, sounding a little confused as to what that was. “I’m a little rusty on my Greek mythology, but isn’t that like, a God?”

“More like a proto-God, like the Gods before the Gods.” Sam explained to the both of you. “They ruled over Greece before Zeus and the rest of the Olympian Gods overthrew them.”

“Okay, so who is this guy?” Dean asked his brother.

“Best as I can tell? Prometheus.” Sam said.

“Wait, are you serious? Didn’t he like…“ You trailed off when you tried to remember what you did know about the figure that sounded familiar to you. "Didn’t he go against someone? Steal fire or something?”

“Yep. He ‘Ocean’s Eleven’d’ Mount Olympus and stole the flames from Olympia.” Sam told you a little about the man and his brave act. Dean presumed it was all for kicks, but in fact, it was for a greater cause. “For us, actually. Zeus decided to revoke humanity’s ability to make fire so we couldn’t cook, couldn’t stay warm, couldn’t see in the dark.”

“Sounds like a monster’s paradise.” Dean remarked. “And this guy made it right for us?”

“Yeah. And in return,” Sam went on about the good deed that didn’t go unpunished for dear old Prometheus. “Zeus decided to strap him to that mountain and make him relive death every day.”

"Damn. Every day for how long? No wonder the guy’s hard drive is fried.” Dean said. Reliving the same day over and over again was mental torture enough, but to have the same death could make anyone go insane. It explained why Shane didn’t remember who he really was. “Did you figure out who Xena-wannabe was?”

“I’m guessing Artemis, Zeus’ daughter. She’s been known to carry around weapons like that dagger.” Sam said. “They’re nasty. They’ll kill immortals dead.”

“All right. Well, we’ve never battled a God curse before.” Dean said. “Hope we can break it.”

It wasn’t your first time going up against a God, but you never had the chance to break a curse that was struck down before the dawn of humankind. You studied up a little more to get yourself familiar with Prometheus, who had a rather traumatizing life. His punishment for death wasn’t battling the frozen temperatures, but having a bird peck and rip out his liver, only for it to grow back again the same day. For the same, gruesome experience to happen over and over again. Now that you knew who Shane really was, it was time to come clean with the truth.

While Haley and Oliver continued to play outside, you turned the laptop around that Sam had been reading just a little while ago to show Shane what the younger man found. There were a few paintings of Prometheus chained down to a mountain and taking his punishment, something that he’d been during for quite some time now. Now it was time to explain what Shane was looking at was in fact him, even if he couldn’t recollect on the memory. “This is an eagle chowing down on your intestines, you don’t remember that?”

Shane shook his head no, you let out a sigh from how this was going. “Okay, look,” Sam said, deciding there was no time anymore to beat around the bush. He was blunt with the man, telling him the truth up front. “I hate to break it to you, but you are Prometheus.”

“Well, then, the best thing for me to do is to get as far away from them as I can.” Shane said. It seemed he was taking the whole being a God pretty well, but you found yourself unsteady about what he thought the right thing to do was.

“Wait. I’m sorry.” You said, raising a hand slightly in the air to stop him from saying another word. You felt the ends of your lips tweak, knowing Shane had accidentally hit a nerve in you from a situation you had endured not too long ago. “You just discovered that you have a seven-year-old son, and you want to walk away?”

“And I’m a God. And this God and his daughter are hunting me.” Shane said, giving you all the reasons he thought was going to lead his family into danger. “What other choice do I have?”

“Okay.” Sam spoke up, shutting the laptop and taking control of the conversation before things could stray from what needed to be discussed. “We’re gonna help you, but we need a plan first, and we can’t come up with one here.”

“Where are we going?” Shane asked.

“Someplace safe.” Dean ressured the man.

The one place where you had been calling home for over a month now, where no supernatural creature could get itself into, no matter how hard they tried. The Men of Letters bunker. You just needed to round everyone up and hit the road soon as possible. You were thinking that the danger wasn’t going to begin until you started to poke the beast known as Zeus, but it seemed you had another problem you had to worry about. You thought Haley and Oliver were peacefully playing outside without much of a problem, but it seemed that was true for only so long.

When the motel door swung open without warning and Haley carried her unconscious son, you jumped straight up at the sight of his head wound that looked nasty. A sense of panic came over you from what was going on, your mind jumping to the fact that he needed to seek medical treatment—and fast. You took out your phone, asking Haley if you should call for an ambulance. Her response took you by surprise when she told you not to do so. She didn’t seem like a neglectful parent, which meant one thing.

“He’s dying, isn’t he?” Shane asked, having a feeling he knew what was going on with his son.

“I was going to tell you,” Haley said. “I just wanted you to have a chance to adjust.”

“Wait a second,” Sam said to Shane. “He has your curse?”

Haley had no clue what all of you were talking about, this curse that sounded like something bad. And it was. You felt your heart drop into your stomach from the sight you were enduring at this very second. Oliver wasn’t suffering from a head injury, he was dying in front of your very eyes. Whatever kind of punishment Zeus put on Prometheus had went down to his offspring. You felt your slowly rest over your stomach, knowing you knew a little something about family curses. You might have gotten rid of yours, but there was always that fear your kids were going to inherit the bad genes. Your personality traits you wanted to weed out into your offspring. It seemed Oliver got his father’s eyes, and punishment from the looks of it.

\+ + +

You and the boys were back in Lebanon by the next morning with Shane and Haley, along with a still unresponsive Oliver. You didn’t waste any time with a history of the place or a tour, you found the nearest room closest to the opening of the bunker and dedicated it as a spot for the kid to recuperate. You opened up the door and stepped inside, following everyone else. Shane carried his son into the room and put him down on the bed that you had conveniently tied up during your break from hunting. It wasn’t much, but it’d do for now until you figured out how to solve this problem.

“This curse was put on you.” Dean said. “Why the kid?”

“You keep saying ‘curse.’ What curse?” Haley asked for what felt to be the thousandth time, not sure how much she could handle this conversation she wasn’t apart of.

“How long has this been happening?” You asked her.

“Oh, well, I—since he turned seven a few months ago.” Haley said. “It started with the dying, and then he stopped talking.”

“Wait, seven?” Sam repeated what he heard from the woman. You gave him a slightly confused look as to why he reacted so surprised. Because it meant Oliver was about to descend into a life he shouldn’t suffer. “Age seven marks one of the first Greek rites of manhood.” 

“So, what? Are you saying the curse is hardwired into his programming?” Dean wondered. “How do you know that?”

“Look at me. I’m sorry that I ran out on you all those years ago. I was scared. I didn’t understand what was going on. But we have a child, and whatever you have, he has. I need to know how to stop it.” Haley couldn’t take being out of sync with the conversation that was about her child, who she raised on her own for the past seven years. She needed to hear the truth, even if it didn’t make sense. She deserved to know. “What curse?”

\+ + +

You lost the count of how many times you told the speech about things that went bump in the night. Most of the time you were telling people when they were caught in the middle or witnessed something first hand. However, dealing with a Greek God who forgot who he truly was after going through a cycle of death and revival too many times, along with a woman who just wanted to hike up a mountain with her friends—the same one he was supposed to be chained to—ended with them fighting for their lives. And spending a night together that ended with a son that Shane didn’t know about until today.

Life was strange. And things for you only got even weirder when you found Oliver inherited the same curse as his father. You had to admit this was a first one for you.

The bunker was the best place for everyone to keep your heads low and try to figure out a way to break this curse once and for all. Haley was still trying to wrap her head around everything that you told her after getting her son situated. She sat on the edge of the chair, leaning forward with a look of disbelief. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched her process everything from the table you sat on top of while Dean leaned his body against the edge of the table. Sam and Shane occupied a table, letting the woman process the reason for her son’s strange health habits that couldn’t be explained.

“Okay, so Ollie’s dad is a Greek God who has been cursed to die every day by Zeus. And you guys are…ghostbusters.” Haley repeated back the information you told her in some kind of attempt to get herself to believe everything she was hearing. She felt like she could repeat it over and over again to herself and it still wouldn’t make sense. “Am I getting this right?”

“Well, you know, due to the fact that your son is currently, albeit temporarily, dead, I’m gonna let that one slide.” Dean said, not liking the remark the woman made after telling her you and the boys were hunters. You rolled your eyes and softly nudged him in the ribs with your elbow to make him focus back on the part of the conversation that mattered most.

“You have to realize this sounds crazy.” Haley felt she could be told a thousand times over about the real reason why her son was able to recover from death, but it still wasn’t sticking. It was too insane for all of this to be real.

“It’s true.” Shane said. “I didn’t believe it myself at first, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Look, the faster you wrap your head around this, the faster we can solve this problem.” You told her how it had to be, whether she liked it or not.

“Solve the problem?” I’m just not sure if I even understand the problem.” Haley admitted once more of her skepticism about this entire situation that seemed to be getting weirder.

“The sooner you do, the easier this is going to be for you and Oliver.” You said, not exactly having the luxury of time for you to help ease Haley into this new life she spent thinking was just fiction. Her child was more like his father in all the wrong ways, and if she wanted to help break this curse, she needed to get her head out of the sand.

“All right. So,” Dean got to his feet to explain the plan of action all of you needed to take in order to solve this problem once and for all. “The way we usually handle this is we summon the bastard and we work him over until he undoes whatever it is he did.”

“Summon Zeus?” Haley wasn’t sure of what she was hearing was all that correct when she found herself repeating back the information again. You nodded your head to answer her question. She did everything in her power not to smile at how ridiculous all of this sounded. “And if he doesn’t want to undo it?”

“Then we take him out.” Sam said, as if that was simple as it sounded.

“And hopefully,” Dean added on, “the curse dies along with him.”

“This can’t be happening.” Haley muttered to herself, spiraling into denial from how her life managed to turn upside down in the matter of only a half of day. She got to her feet and started to slowly pace around and placed a hand against her forehead, brushing some of her hair out of the way to try and somehow tend to the headache that was starting to form. In the distance, you heard the sound of Oliver coughing, signaling he was awake. Haley took it as her cue to get out of this conversation while she still could. “This I can handle.”

Haley didn’t waste a second bolting out of here to attend to her son, leaving the four of you to talk amongst yourselves. It wasn’t a stretch for you to presume Shane was going to be on board with this plan. You decided to take it upon yourself to check up on Haley and Oliver after a minute or so passed, making you curious to see how her son was doing after his recent brush with death. You left the boys and Shane to start on the long search ahead through all the books the library on everything about Greek Gods.

You headed to the bedroom, softly knocking on the open door to announce your presence before you could startle Haley. You gave her a smile when you saw the woman sitting on the side of the bed tending to Oliver, who appeared to be very much alive from the last time you saw him, but now sleeping. It seemed dying tired the poor kid out. Your eyes wandered to the nasty head wound that was still caked with dried blood. You made a mental note of finding the first aid kit to make sure Haley took care of it before it could lead into something else.

“How’s he doing?” You curiously asked, striking up a conversation with the worried mother.

“Better.” Haley replied. She turned her gaze away from her child for a moment to look over at you, she gave you a small smile from your concern on his well-being.

All though a few hours passed and Oliver was now breathing again, you knew by tomorrow the cycle would start up again if you didn’t find a way to stop this. It could have been simple as another hit to the head, maybe even choking on a piece of food. Maybe even something brutal like getting hit by a car…the possibilities were endless. Seeing a child die, no matter the way, was cruel and painful, but knowing they were doomed to suffer the same fate every day? Haley might have been dealing with this for only a couple of months, but you could see the impact it made on her. That constant worry, the constant wonder of what was going to kill her child today.

“I know this is a lot to take in all at once. It was for me after I found out many, many years ago.” You decided this was the best to discuss how she was feeling right at this very moment, from all the things she heard, Haley’s head had to be spinning. You looked over at the sleeping Oliver, your lips stretching into a small frown. “Not to mention, your child being wrapped up in all of this mess, it only makes things scarier.”

“I guess I got a glimpse of what I was in for after seeing it happen with…Shane. When it happened to Oliver, I knew I needed to track him down and figure out what was going on.” Haley admitted. You couldn’t possibly know what she was dealing with at the moment, but you were sure about the fact that you wanted to help in any way possible. Haley felt herself drifting away from the topic for a moment as her eyes did the same. She felt her lips stretch into a sort of bashful, almost kind of awkward smile. “I hate to ask this, but…”

You noticed her eyes fell right to your stomach, and the morbid curiosity to know if you were just carrying a few extra pounds, or you were in fact carrying. You answered her question when you placed a hand on your bump and nodded your head. “Four months and counting.”

“How are you still apart…of all of this? It seems dangerous. Not to mention what all of you have been talking about. Don’t you think it’s a stupid idea to be putting yourself in that kind of danger?” Haley’s questions were valid and had a point from the concern not only for yourself, the baby too. It was something in which you were used to by now. She realized how she sounded a second after the words fell from her mouth, making her suddenly regret them. You smiled slightly in a way to show her she didn’t do any harm. "I’m sorry. This is all just so…new to me. You’re trying to help. Who am I to tell you what to do with your life?”

"It’s okay. Seriously. I know all of this seems kind of strange. And I guess it is. Going up against a Greek God is a walk in the park compared to what I’ve seen over the past two months alone.” You said. Haley’s face changed into a sort of morbid fascination, as if she was tempted to ask what kind of other things you saw. She didn’t, wanting to keep what sanity she had left when all of this was over. “I’ll be honest with you, Dean and I weren’t expecting kids. Kind of comes with the lifestyle. However…one night, six weeks later. Found out I was pregnant myself.”

"Yeah. I kinda freaked out when I found out I was having Oliver. All by myself.” Haley admitted to you. She glanced over at her son, a small spreading across her lips at the memory of him when he was just born. Small enough to hold in her arms, seemed just like yesterday before the nightmare started. “Even if I knew what I was walking into, I’d still do it. My entire life changed when I had him. For the good.”

“I’ve got to hand it to you. Motherhood isn’t easy. My mom was a single parent. She did her damn hardest. And you did, too. Oliver seems like he turned out to be a great kid.” You told her. Haley smiled at the compliment, but it only lasted for a few seconds before you saw it slowly disappear, a somber expression fell across her expression at the realization of the trouble ahead for her son. “Hey, relax. The boys and I have faced a few Gods in our time together. We even stopped the apocalypse if that makes you feel any better.”

“It’s just a lot to take in…” Haley started talking, admitting more to you about how she was feeling at the moment. When she finally processed what you had said, she found herself suddenly growing silent as she stared at you with a confused expression. Not sure if you were trying to pull her leg, or you were telling the truth. “Wait—did you say apocalypse?”

“Don’t worry about it. That was a while ago. Focus on the future.” You said, trying to make her mind focus on more important things than what you might not should have mentioned. “Figure out how things are going to be after all of this is over with.”

Haley wanted to made a remark about how there might not be a future if things like this went south, but if three people managed to stop the apocalypse all by themselves maybe they had a clue of what they were doing. “I guess I should think about that, knowing that Oliver’s father’s in his life. I mean, I spent all of this time trying to find him. I just he wants to be a part of ours. I felt like I dropped a bombshell on him.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t tell Dean that he was gonna be a father until just a few weeks ago. I was a nervous wreck that he wasn’t going to take it well. And he did.” You said. “I mean…it seems like you and him had something going on back there. Something good.”

“I never forgot him after what we went through. I want him to know his son, and I want Oliver to know his father. Maybe we all can be a somewhat functional family.“ Haley mumbled, still trying to wrap her head around everything that was going on. "What about you? After this baby comes, are you still gonna be doing all of this?”

“I haven’t really thought about that yet.” You found yourself taken off guard from her question, making your brow furrow slightly from how you had to think about it. What was life going to be like when the baby was here? Hopefully no more demons, no more anxiety about the future for your child. “We’re in the middle of doing something, let’s just say. I’m trying to make a better future for my child. I mean, aren’t we all? When that’s done, hopefully soon, I guess I can be at peace. Maybe even retire and raise this kid. Try to live a normal…ish life.”

Haley couldn’t agree more with what you just said. Being a parent meant you’d move mountains for your children and bend over backwards, even sticking your neck out to face against Zeus. The both of you headed back to the library after making sure Oliver was sound asleep. You made your way up the few steps noticing the boys and Shane had already cracked down on research from the books all over the table. And it seemed they found something when Dean handed off a rather heavy looking book to Sam, discussing the matters among themselves.

“Hey,” Dean directed his attention towards Haley when he saw her heading back and walking in sync with you by her side.“How is the kid?”

“He’s fine.” She said, giving an update that everyone seemed eager to know.

“What did you guys find?” You asked, pulling out a chair for yourself to sit down next to Sam and hear what they discovered on their own. “Anything useful?”

“Dragon penis.” Dean said. Out of all the things you were expecting to hear, what came out of the older Winchester’s mouth was not one of them. You were a bit taken aback from the words, making a slightly confused and amused look cross your face.

“I’m sorry,” You somehow managed to compose yourself long enough to hide back the smile at your natural childish reaction at what you just heard. “Did you just say dragon p—”

“Yeah. It’s a rough translation from Greek. He means Drakopoulos.” Sam told you. “He was a hunter who went after Zeus.”

"Oh, thank God.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, not sure where this entire thing was going. “I thought we were gonna have to do something weird.”

“Right, so, Drakopoulos tangled with Zeus back in the day,” Dean jumped right back into the conversation about what he discovered before you and Haley joined. “and the Men of Letters translated his journal.”

“The Men of Letters?” Shane asked, wondering what kind of title that was.

“It’s a secret society. This is actually their lair. All of us are legacies.” Dean couldn’t help himself when he he bragged about the fancy title he inherited from his grandfather, per se. Something that was special to the three of you, but not enough to impress Haley and Shane from the looks of it. Sam stared at his brother while you raised your brow slightly, wondering if all that was necessary. Dean’s smile slowly fell, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “No big deal.”

“Okay, so it says here he summoned Zeus into a trap and found a way to kill him,” Sam read out aloud the information he found after skimming through the journal.

“What’s that?” You asked.

“Wood from a tree struck by lightning.” Dean said.

“Frozen energy—you thinking fulgurite?” Dean wondered. Sam shrugged, thinking it made sense that it was what all of you were looking for. “All right. Nancy Drew, why don’t you get on the web and see if there’s any Greeks nearby that are still worshiping the old Gods.”

“Already on it.” You said. You got back up to your feet to find your laptop that had to be hidden underneath all the books. When you noticed it snuggled underneath one, you cautiously pulled it out to make sure you didn’t crack the screen and headed back to your seat to start your search.

“What about the wood?” Shane asked. It was the most important thing all of you needed to get if you wanted to see the God dead once and for all. “Is that easy to find?”

“With a little bit of luck.” Dean said.

“Oh. Wait—this journal just ends.” Haley mentioned something out of the blue. You looked up from the screen to see she had pulled over the book and began reading the translated journal entry out of curiosity. It seemed she found something unsettling. It seemed Drakopoulos never got around to updating how it all ended. “I mean, how do we know if this Drako-whatever survived? How do we know Zeus didn’t get to him?”

“We don’t know.” Sam admitted to the woman. All of you were going into this with blind faith, hoping the lore you read about wasn’t going to end up with five people being killed at the hands of a Greek God after you pissed him off.

“How do we know this is going to work?” Haley asked. She found herself losing a bit of faith in you and the boys after seeing how you worked. It wasn’t efficient, it was believing in some kind of dusty old book to possibly take down the monster. All you could do was pray that the information was right and it all ended out in your favor.

“We never know for sure, but these books—they’re pretty good.” Dean reassured her. They haven’t failed you on a hunt from the times you used them. Not yet, at least.

“So, we’re hanging our lives on the writing on a dead man who…” Haley tailed off for a moment, trying her hardest not to show her slowly dwindling trust in all of you. “is named after genitalia.”

“It’s a loose translation.” Dean said, as if he was trying to make this situation somehow better.

Haley scoffed underneath her breath, mumbling something underneath her breath that sounded awful sarcastic. “Experts.”

“We haven’t failed yet. Have a little faith in us. Because I just found one of the ingredients. Greek pagans two towns over. Best part?” You turned around the laptop you had been working on for the past few minutes to show the website of endless graves to pick from. “They have an obit page with cemeteries.”

“All right. Same, Shane—you’re on grave duty. Y/N, find out if there’s been any recent lightning storms with trees that were struck down.” Dean instructed, listing off duties for everyone to do. You nodded your head while you scribbled down an address for Sam before ripping it off the pad of paper and handing it off to the man. Dean looked over at Haley, telling her what she was going to be apart of. “You and I’ll handle the B&E.”

“We’ll be in touch.” Sam said.

The two men got up from their seats and began heading out to get the first ingredient all of you were going to need in order to conduct the ritual. Dean called out to his brother, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the Impala. Throwing it over to the younger man, Sam managed to catch the keys straight into his palm in one swift motion. As you saw his shadowy silhouette heading for the stairs, you shouted at him to be careful like always before going back to your research of trying to find a tree that was struck by lightning.

Dean headed over to the table where you and Haley were occupying, grabbing another laptop for his own tedious search for where he was going to find fulgurite. Haley watched the both of you work, finding it rather fascinating at how all of this was coming together, despite her hesitant earlier. The three of you worked together like a well oiled machine, all of you having a special part to play. And it seemed she got to be apart of breaking the law aspect from it.

“B&E? You mean breaking and entering?” Haley asked out of curiosity. “What for?“

"Well, the book calls for fulgurite. It’s a little hard to come by.” Dean said, explaining the more drastic behavior to get what all of you were going to need. “The last time we needed it, we stole it from a one-percenter.”

“You do know that fulgurite is available in crystal shops all over, right?” Haley dropped a piece of information that was about to make your job a hell of a lot easier. Dean found himself feeling slightly embarrassed, as to why he didn’t even think to look there first. He looked over at the woman, pretending to find all of what she was saying rather interesting. “The new age people, they use it to make cheap jewelry.”

You quietly chuckled to yourself from seeing how Dean realized his brilliant plan wasn’t going to be so complicated as he thought. All it took was a quick search for you to find exactly what you needed. “Good news. There just so happens to be a crystal shop in town. If you leave now you’ll be able to grab it before closing.”

Dean grabbed the piece of paper of the shop he didn’t need to break into after all. You gave him a smug sort of smile and wished him luck, Haley handed off her keys to her car so he could make a quick trip. You had two of the ingredients done for the summoning spell, now you needed to focus on the most important piece of all. How to kill the bastard. That was going to be the tricky part, but with a bit of research and some news article, you happened to have found a tree that was struck down by lightning last summer. Nothing much of it was left after the storm, but you had a feeling there was just enough to spare just for you.

\+ + +

Now that all of you had everything you needed to summon Zeus and make him take back his little curse, it was time to put the plan into action. You decided to hitch a ride with Haley in her minivan with Oliver in the backseat to follow behind the boys and Shane in the Impala. The ride to the location where all of this was going to take place was quiet for the most part. You were behind the wheel with Haley in the passenger seat and Oliver sleeping in the back after he nodded off an hour into the drive. Everything was somewhat calm before the storm. You took your eyes off the road for a moment to see how Haley was doing.

“Listen, I know all of this seems a little haphazard, all right?” You spoke up for the first time in a while, breaking the silence to help ease the situation she was about walk into. “But trust me when I say that the boys and I have gone in with a lot less and still came out on top.”

“I believe you. It’s just all this.” Haley said. She didn’t expect during search to find her son’s father that it was going to end her learning about the supernatural world, and finding out she spent a night with a God felt like it was the cherry on top of it all. “I’m about to ask Zeus, the Greek God, to help cure my son.”

“The thing you have to remember is this is not about asking for help, okay? Things like him aren’t your friend. They’re the enemy. You ask for something, they’re going to ask for something back. Trust me on this. I know from personal experience.” You muttered the last part of your sentence to yourself. However it didn’t go unnoticed by Haley, who found herself staring at you with wonder by what you meant from that. You let out a quiet sigh, adjusting your grip on the wheel. “My mom, she…she couldn’t exactly have kids. Tried and tried for years, but nothing. So she went to someone and asked for his help.”

“What kind of help?” Haley found herself asking out of curiosity.

“Would you believe me if I said that she sold her and 

my dad’s soul to a demon for a kid?” You told her the truth, wondering how she was going to react and think you were lying.

“Yesterday? I would have laughed in your face. Today? It seems just about the rest of the crazy things I’ve been hearing.” Haley admitted. She didn’t exactly feel numb or comfortable with the truth about everything, it was still settling. “What happened to you?”

“Let’s just say I inherited a curse from my dad. It turned me into a very bad person for a while.” You turned your gaze away from the road and to Haley, admitting something to her that you rarely did unless you felt comfortable with the person. And in some kind of way, you did with Haley. Her expression faltured for a moment, a sense of nervousness crossed her face, wondering if you were about to do something. You smiled slightly in reassurance. “Don’t worry. It’s gone now.”

Haley nodded her head, finding some relief come over her at hearing she wasn’t riding in the car with a monster. You turned your attention back to the road so you could focus on following behind Dean and not get yourself lost. Haley noticed your expression settled into something that looked like it was calm, but there was a hint of something that was too hard to go unnoticed. She saw one hand fell from the wheel, and to rest on your small bump. A mother’s worst fear.

“You know when I first had Oliver, I was scared out of my mind thinking I was doing something wrong. It’s natural for a parent to have that. It means you care. It’s going to be okay.” Haley thought it was her turn to be the one to comfort, as it was you who was having a fear. Not about going up against a Greek God, but the secret you didn’t tell a single soul not. Not Sam, not even Dean. The impending doom of motherhood. Along with the fear all of your worst traits were going to be inherited. She gave you a smile, the kind a mother gave to her child when they were scared. “Who knows that better you, right?”

You felt the weight in your chest that felt like it had been sitting there for weeks lift just the slightest bit. Maybe Haley was right. You had landed on your feet many times before. You beat the supposed curse that was put on you, proving that you were willing to do anything to live a happy life. You were human…good as new. And you were about to give the same ending to Oliver and his parents. You focused back on the road, ready to do anything you could to help fix this situation so it would never happen ever again. Not to Oliver, not to your child.

\+ + +

It was the moment of truth; you crossed your arms over your chest while you watched Dean follow the exact same steps Drakopoulos had done in order to summon Zeus and trap him. He placed the bowl full of the two ingredients that was needed and lit a match, throwing into the bowl and backed away when a burst of flame ignited. You saw Haley flinch from the corner of your eye and Oliver stare at the sight with wide eyes. This was only the beginning of what they were about to see. reassured them to be calm as all of you backed away slowly from the trap that was supposed to keep Zeus right where you wanted him. You rang the bell, now it was time for him to show his face.

Zeus; the Greek God of the sky and thunder, king of all of Olympus was all you knew about him. You looked up slowly to the ceiling of the abandoned warehouse you were in when you noticed the lights were starting to flicker rapidly, giving you an indication that this was working. You furrowed your brow slightly when you heard the sounds of roaring thunder above you, and a few seconds later flashing bolts of lightning. The blinding light caught all of you off guard, forcing you to shield your eyes and back away even more when you noticed lightening strike out of nowhere and straight onto the trap, bringing down Zeus himself.

“Oh, come now.” Zeus didn’t seem the least bit afraid of five measly little mortals and a Greek God he punished trapping him like this. “Can’t we be civilized?”

“Well, it depends on you. All we need you to do is break a curse you put on a little kid.” Dean said, giving part of the reason why he was summoned down to earth in the first place. Zeus directed his attention to Oliver, who was huddled by his mother’s side. "So, how about you say ‘yes,’ and we all go home?”

“Nice to see you again, Prometheus. All cleaned up.” Zeus didn’t seem to be in any rush to do what you asked of him, he was more preoccupied about catching up with an old face he hadn’t seen in a very long time. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“It’s gone too far, Zeus.” Shane said. “Break the curse.”

Zeus remained silent for a moment, wondering why after all this time Prometheus would come to him and beg for him to break the rightful punishment put on him. His eyes wandered away from the man, and back to Oliver, making the connection. “It’s your child who has the affliction.” You crossed your arms tighter over your chest when you saw Zeus walk towards the edge of the trap. Even though you knew he couldn’t go any further, you found yourself mimicking his moves, taking a few steps until you were right next to Haley and Oliver, as if you were trying to protect them. “Interesting.” 

“So, what’s it gonna be? The easy way,” Dean proposed, walking to the trap. He rested his arms across his side, showing off the wooden stake made out of the tree struck by lightning. “Or we could do this the hard way.”

“Break the trap, dear man, and I’ll break the curse.” Zeus had his own offer, as if he was trying to track all of you into thinking his proposition was good to be true. You had been in this exact same situation too many times before to fall for it. He wasn’t your friend, he was the enemy that wanted what he wanted and to see all of you dead.

“No dice.” Dean said. “Fix the kid.”

“Going once…” Zeus pretended to show you that he wasn’t fooling around, counting down until his offer expired and you’d be left with nothing.

“Don’t be that guy.” Dean said with annoyance in his tone at the deal the God was trying to fool him into agreeing with.

“Going twice…” Zeus went on again, waiting for one of you to crack under the pressure.

“Hey, you can rot here for all I care.” Dean told the man.

“Yes,” Zeus understood the punishment that would follow if he didn’t cooperate, and how it’d be the same for all of you if you didn’t bend a little. “and the child will continue to suffer.”

Dean pretended to think about the lose/lose situation that would be if none of you compromised. To someone like Haley, she felt giving into Zeus’ demand was the only way her son was going to get free. You and the boys had been in this kind of predicament before. Dean decided to head out, knowing it was better for Zeus to have a little time out and think about what he’s done. You didn’t hesitate a second in turning around and heading towards the exit, letting him rot in here for long as he needed to. It was at this point when the monster began to rethink their choices. But it seemed there was a weak link in your group, someone who was desperate to put this nightmare to an end. Zeus set his eyes on Oliver’s mother.

“He needs me,” He told the woman. “And you know it.”

Haley found herself remembering all the things you drilled in her head about how Zeus was the only one who could lift this curse, who could solve this problem once and for all. She seemed to forget the part where monsters aren’t your friend. Their word wasn’t their bond, it was the sweet nothings they told you to fall for their tricks. And she did, a mother who wanted nothing more than to protect her son. You found yourself stopping dead in your tracks when you heard her outburst, making you quickly look over to see what she was about to do.

You reacted on your first instinct, running like a bat out of hell in hopes you had enough time to stop Haley from making the biggest regret of her life. You saw her abandon Oliver for just a moment to head to the trap that was the only thing to keep Zeus in his place, and with the simple scrape from the heel of her shoe, it was destroyed. You managed to yank her back away from the very thing you told her not to go near. The only way this situation could be handled was to bargain with Zeus as if he was the enemy. And now you found yourself face to face with the very being, not sure how it was going to end up. Haley was focused on one thing, getting her son back to normal. Zeus had other plans tonight.

“What do you say?” The Greek God decided it was his turn to have a little fun. With a simple stomp of his foot, a burst of lightning came out of nowhere, striking down Shane and the boys, making them stumble to the ground. You tried to move your feet to somehow gain control of this situation, only to find they were planted firmly on the ground. You were stuck. “Shall we try this the hard way?”

You felt yourself exhale a sharp breath from your nose at how all of this ended up, Zeus found it all rather amusing when you caught him laughing to himself, seeing your pitiful attempt crumble at the hands of a mother who was just trying to do what was best. “Bring forth the child.” Zeus commanded. Haley was hesitant to do so, as if she was starting to realize this was a mistake. A scary man with unlimited powerful was intimidating, so the God decided to add a touch of manners to help ease the tension. “Please.”

Zeus stood face to face the mother and child, thinking he had everyone right where he wanted them. He had no clue it was going to take a lot more than being thrown around for the boys to give up so easily. Your eyes wandered away from the situation that was about to unfold into a disastrous ending if somebody didn’t put a stop to it. The boys slowly got up to their feet, silently making a plan to attack Zeus when they noticed his back was tuned to them. It seemed like the perfect plan that was going to work. Neither one of you took into consideration Zeus had family of his own, who would do anything he asked.

The boys managed to get up to their feet before they found their plan foiled in the matter of seconds, and only finding out they were caught when they felt their backs roughly being thrown against a cement wall, pinning them in place. You turned your head to see who it was. The woman from the motel Sam had identified as the Greek Goddess, Artemis. You rolled your eyes in frustration at how all of this went downhill, muttering a familiar frustration out from underneath your breath you remembered Bobby used to say during times of distress. “Balls!”

“I trust you’ve met my daughter.” Zeus said.

“Haley, don’t do this.” You warned the woman from what she was about to do. You felt your stomach twist into knots from what was unfolding. Somehow you hoped she would remember what you said about your own mother who did anything to get what she wanted, but ended with her rotting in hell. “You aren’t going to win.”

“This is the son of Prometheus. And he’s cursed to suffer death every day.” Zeus told his daughter. Sam watched as Artemis looked over at Prometheus, with a kind of expression he wouldn’t have expected from the woman. “I must admit, I could never have conceived such a horrible fate for such a beautiful child. Just goes to show, we must all leave room for happy accidents.”

“What does that mean?” Haley asked the man, not sure if what he was saying was a little remark. Or something much more sinister. The way he was speaking was cryptic, like it could mean anything. “I don’t understand.”

“Tell me, has Prometheus experienced the child’s death yet? How did he take it? Did he hurt?” Zeus asked the woman all sorts of questions she nodded her head to, giving him the exact answers he wanted to hear. “Good.”

It seemed Zeus wanted to deliver Prometheus’ punishment of death himself when Shane suddenly dropped down to his knees, attempting to somehow breathe. But it was impossible from the invisible grip around his neck. Haley quickly shielded Oliver’s eyes so he wouldn’t be able to see the sight. “Imagine a thousand children all dying in unison. Only then would you understand my pain. But we can’t always have what we want, so…” You felt your stomach drop when you saw him set his eyes on Oliver. “One will have to do.”

Haley suddenly realized her plan backfired right in her face when she figured out what Zeus was trying to do. She attempted to plead for him to change her mind, but she only managed to get out one measly word before she was forced into silence. Oliver had no nowhere to run when Zeus walked over to him and crouched down to the little boy’s level. Zeus looked at him like he was a special gift made just for him. A new little puppet to torture.

“I have a special job for you, my little friend.” Zeus spoke to the child in a sweet and kind tone, making him have no clue what he was about to do. This was a family matter, and it seemed the Greek God didn’t like the fact that you were giving him a deathly glare.

Zeus called over his daughter to take care of you and the boys while he dealt with Oliver and his parents. You knew better than fight your way out of this when Artemis made her way over to you and roughly yanked your arm, forcing you to start walking. You rolled your eyes in frustration and did what you were told, leading the way while she followed right behind. The boys were next to join you, and on your way you went, marching to your death. You pictured a lot of different ways your life would be cut short. You didn’t think it was going to be at the hands of a Greek Goddess, and especially not in the condition that you were in.

You let out a quiet sigh at how this night ended up for the three of you; walking to your deaths, Oliver facing the same terrible and painful fate as his father. While you and Dean were thinking of every way you could sneak your way out of this, it seemed Sam wanted you and his brother to get to know the person who was about to end your life in a very painful manner.

“So, you know who this is, guys, walking us to our deaths?” Sam asked all of you, as if you were honestly going to answer him.

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t care.”

“It’s our God, Artemis—the Goddess of Hunters.” Sam said. You looked up at him and have him a sarcastic sort of expression, pretending you were even the slightest bit interested in what he had to say. Dean gave his brother a sort of stink-eye glare, not really in the mood for the brief history lesson on the goddess. “Of course, she’s not really worship worthy anymore, uh, having lost a step and all.”

Artemis didn’t think the words being said about her were shining her in a flattering manner. She didn’t waste a second in making Sam regret what he said when she waved her hand, slamming the three of you straight into the wall. You managed to catch yourself just in time from getting a blow to places where you tried to avoid. You were stuck with the side of your face pressed against the cold concrete wall, at the mercy of a very pissed off Goddess. “The hell I am.”

“Really, Sam? Talk trashing a God?” You hissed at the younger man from how stupid he was being. This kind of behavior you expected out of his brother during times like this, not him. “If she doesn’t kill you, I sure as hell will.”

“Still at full power? Really?” Sam asked the Goddess, in the kind of voice that was almost mocking her. He didn’t give her a chance to answer, deciding to see how long he could push her buttons before she snapped. “Then why did it take you seven years to track down Prometheus?”

“He was hiding.” She said.

“Hiding from you? So the God of Hunters couldn’t find a shack in Montana?” Sam went on, asking his questions and testing his limits. “Maybe it’s that you didn’t want to find him.”

Artemis decided to show all of you she was exactly who her name promised to be, a hunter who knew how to make her prey fall in line. You felt your first punishment for the night when you felt yourself being shoved even harder against the wall, making it feel like you were being pinned down by a bolder. “Keep it up, Sammy.” You gritted the words between clenched teeth. “And I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to have children.”

“Your dad’s gonna kill that kid, you know?” Sam reminded the woman about the horrible events going on on the other side of the warehouse that she was ignoring.

“Don’t worry. He’ll come back.” Artemis reassured him about the loophole that wouldn’t grant such punishment to Oliver. She pulled out a dagger and stepped forward to Sam, lightly pressing the blade against his cheek to prove he was very much mortal. “Unlike you.”

“He was in love with you, you know. He told us.” Sam suddenly said something unexpecting. You furrowed your brow from where he was going with this, taunting Artemis wasn’t to get under her skin, the way someone would with a secret nobody was supposed to know. She stepped away from him, mumbling that he was lying. “Okay, sure, yeah. Believe whatever you want.”

Things fell silent for a moment, long enough for all of you to hear the screams of pain coming from Shane as you knew him. To Artemis he was someone more, in a way that Sam knew how to work against her to his advantage. After a few seconds Artemis hesitantly spoke up, “What did he say to you?”

“This wasn’t the first time he escape that mountain, and that you let him go for free as long as you could hide your little trystant from the old man.” Sam said. It all sounded convincing, but the goddess was smart enough not to believe such a thing to come out of the man’s Shane’s condition who didn’t even know who he really was.

“The hell he said.” Artemis muttered. “His brain is mush.”

“Oh, yeah? Then how did I know? What, have you spilled it to anyone? Homor? Hesiod? Herodotus? Of course not. You were afraid Big Daddy would find out that you fell for the person he hates most in this world. Of course, when he saw the zombie article, it kind of forced your hand, and you had to come hunt him down no matter how much it hurt.“ Sam managed to unravel the situation as what it was, never missing a beat while explaining it back to Artemis. You had to admit you were impressed with his big brain. But what came out of his mouth took you by surprise. "You know what? Go ahead. Kill us. And let your father slaughter that boy. Over and over again. That won’t leave a mark.”

Artemis had shown no sort of sympathy to Oliver, thinking his curse was a loophole of torture that was better than death. But it seemed she had come to her senses, realizing she wasn’t a better than her father. She was beneath him, making her powerless as Prometheus. She was at the mercy of Zeus. If she didn’t do what he wanted, who was to say he wouldn’t punish her as well? The blood of an innocent child would be on her hands if she didn’t do something to take control of this situation to make it right once and for all.

Zeus warmed up his punishment on Prometheus with a psychical beating and some extra goodies to shock him back into consciousness. Now that he was in a weaken state. the God decided to take a crack at his son. He stood over Oliver, getting ready to give the child his next dose of death. But he was stopped before he could lay a single finger on Oliver, by someone he would have never expected to betray him. “This has to stop, father.”

“Stop?” Zeus found his daughter standing across the way with her bow and arrow, ready to aim and shoot him if he didn’t cooperate with her demand. He didn’t seem the least bit threatened at the attempt to foil his plans. “I’m only getting started.”

“You’ve done enough.” Artemis said.

“I am doing this for us—for our kind. He is the reason we’re here and not ruling the world.” Zeus pointed a finger at Shane, blaming the God who brought light to the world of humankind. The act that doomed Gods and Goddess’ from power, and forced Protemetus to his punishment. “He’s the reason they have forgotten all about us.”

“Let them go.” Artemis demanded in a sharp tone. “All of them.”

“I am your father, and you will obey me.” Zeus told his daughter, reminding her about the role that she was to play and who was in charge here. He looked away from her to focus on what he was previously doing before she barged in and talked all of this nonsense.

“You were once my father.” Artemis said. It seemed her words had caught Zeus’ attention when he found himself looking back at her, surprised at what he was hearing. “Now you’re someone else.”

Artemis set her eyes on her father and shot off the arrow, thinking it was going to hit her target. But it seemed even Zeus had his own tricks to beat death. He grabbed Shane off from the ground to use him like a human shield, letting him be the one to get hit with the arrow when it landed straight into his stomach. “I never get tired of watching you die.” Zeus taunted Prometheus for the last time, promising that his curse would never stop with his bloodline. “Your boy is going on the mountain.”

Zeus thought he was the one who was going to have the last laugh, not realizing that Shane would do anything to make sure that his son wouldn’t have to face the same hell he had. With what little strength he had left, Shane grabbed ahold of the arrow in his stomach, shoving it further into his body, and right into Zeus—who had been standing directly behind him. You saw the look of surprise cross his face at what Shane had done, He was finally getting a taste of the punishment that was coming to him. You began to see flashes of lightning start to rapidly fly through from Zeus’ body, and, without warning, a sudden bolt of light blinded you.

It took a few moments for your eyes to adjust back to normal at what you saw unfold. When you managed to, you looked forward to see that the deed was done. The curse was broken…but at the cost of a life. You let out a heavy sight at the sight of Shane lying on the ground, all of this went unnoticed by his son. Artemis made her way over to the bodies and crouched down, yanking the arrow out and throwing it to the floor.

You found it slightly odd when you saw Artemis grab her father and Shane’s hands to hold them together and looked over at Haley, giving her the slightest glimpse of a smile. The action was as if she was telling the woman her son was free from the misery his father had went through. And with the generous gift, it was time for her to leave to put her father to rest. In the blink of an eye, Artemis and Zeus’ body vanished into thin air.

\+ + +

You had to admit, you were a little too optimistic for your own good at times. You were naive. You wanted to believe the glass was half full, there was good in people. Sometimes dark days can lead to happy endings, no bloodshed needed to fall in order for things to be okay. No matter how many times you saw it end the same exact way each time…you never learned your lesson.

You thought there was a chance things for Haley and Shane could end with the both of them raising their son like a family, the way you promised it would. Now here you sat, in the middle of the woods with Oliver, watching a fire go in the distance while the boys burned Shane’s body and Haley said her final goodbyes.

Oliver hadn’t said a single word over the past day and a half that you knew him. He couldn’t from the curse put on him. You made your way over to the kid and sat down on the back of the minivan, joining him for a moment. After the things that he saw tonight, you thought the kid deserved a bit of a break from all the chaos. Feel like a kid for a bit while the grown ups cleaned up the mess before going back to things, pretending like all of this didn’t happen.

“You know what? How about we go get some ice cream sundaes?” You proposed an idea that sounded like it might be fun for him and give him a chance to relax. You thought he was going to shake his head or shrug his shoulders as a response. Instead, he spoke—for the first time in the past couple of months. The sound of the kid’s voice was bittersweet.

“No. I’d like to stay.” Oliver said.

You were rather taken back at his decision, but you agreed if that’s what he wanted. You gave the little kid a smile, the kind you supposed parents did when times were tough and they were trying to fool their children that everything was okay. Oliver wasn’t like a normal kid. And he’d never quite be the same after the things he saw tonight. You didn’t know which one made your heart break more; the fact that a child’s innocence was gone. Or the curse put on him could only be broken by his father dying.

\+ + +

You suppose that you accomplished what you set out to do on the hunt. Oliver was free from the curse he inherited from his father, allowing him and Haley to go on and live a peaceful life. After who knows how many centuries of suffering an inhumane punishment given by Zeus himself, Prometheus was put to rest once and for all. At this point, when you and the boys were on your way back home, this was your chance to relish in your accomplishment and feel a little bit good from what you were able to do. But you couldn’t do that tonight.

Instead you stared out the backseat window and watched as the nighttime scenery passed you by, wondering why you felt a knot in your stomach. Like you were guilty over something. It didn’t take much brain power for you to figure out exactly.

“Well, here’s to that crazy little wild card called love.” Dean’s voice broke your concentration away from the window and pulled you back into reality, making you look straight forward. The fast food smell from the burgers that Dean suggested all of you should treat yourselves to make your stomach feel a bit queasy. It seemed your body was starting to disagree once again with meat. You didn’t say anything about it. He handed off the wrapped up burger to his brother, curious about the man’s bold tactic that ended up saving your lives. “How did you know Artemis had the hots for Prometheus, anyway?”

“Intuition.” Sam guessed, chuckling to himself about how stupid he might have been. “Luck.”

“Yeah, well, whatever it worked…pretty much.” Dean said, deciding to look at the silver lining of how all of this ended out. “At least the kid’s all right.”

You looked down at your lap from what you heard him say, knowing you were feeling something very different at the moment. You began to play with a loose string on the end of your shirt, letting it twirl around your finger until the thread was wrapped around your skin, tight enough to dig into your flesh. You tugged on the thread, using only a little bit of force before it broke.

“You know…” You spoke up for the first time since getting into the car. The boys hadn’t been off about your quiet behavior, presuming it was because you were tired from the long hunt. And in a way, you were starting to. You were tired of holding up this idea that everything was okay. You needed to get this thought off your chest before you pushed yourself into a head space that you couldn’t go back from. “I’m starting to think maybe I was being naive.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked.

“When I said that I could just will myself into coming out of these trials unscathed.” You muttered the truth that you didn’t think would ever come out of your mouth. A reality that you refused to believe in, but after tonight, there was no more denying. You found yourself staring at your stomach, the little bump that you had been gushing about since the first time you saw it one morning after it appeared out of nowhere. Now it felt like you were carrying around a hostage, dragging them against their will into something they never asked for. In that moment you felt like you had made a terrible mistake. “Maybe having this baby was a bad idea.”

“No, no, no.” Dean realized what was going on here. Before you could go on anymore about this kind of nonsense that felt like it was coming out of nowhere, he stopped you from put somehow scaring yourself even more into a frame of mind he might not be able to pull you back out from. You couldn’t get cold feet this far into your pregnancy and doing the trials. You were in the middle of the race with no way to go back. “Stop with the sullen emo crap, all right? You’re hormonal. You’re thinking too much about this.”

“It’s not my hormones. I’m just thinking more clearly. I mean, do you know that’s not gonna happen to me, Dean? Bobby, Rufus, now Prometheus—you think any of them chose death? No. The life chose for them. And look what happened to Oliver.” You said. You couldn’t help yourself when you used the example that had ended in a happy ending, but you could only see it as some kind of future reality you were going to be facing. “You can’t think our kid’s not gonna turn out with something wrong with them.”

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Sam couldn’t help himself but jump into the conversation from what you were rambling on about that was starting to make him concerned. In all of the time of knowing about your pregnancy you had never mentioned any sort of fear like this before. “You were so excited about this baby, now you’re not? What changed?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and moved your gaze back to the backseat window, hoping for some kind of distraction to keep you from going on anymore about this conversation. But all you saw was your reflection staring back at you, almost like the world was forcing you to look at the uncertain feeling that was written all over your face. “Remember the case we took a few weeks back? With that witch who was messed with our heads and forced us to see all those terrible things?”

The boys found themselves reflecting back on one of the last hunts all of you took before the unexpected break from everything. Dean admitted to you about the the tragic memories pulled from the darkest corners of his mind that he tried not to think about. Sam had been plagued with the nightmares of the cage, along with the death of loved ones that he would never be able to shake off for the rest of his life. Your own worst memories were used against you. But it seemed the spell had dug a little deeper, turning a fear you never realized you had into a possible reality if you weren’t cautious enough. Sam was the one who asked you what you saw.

"I saw…them.” You inhaled a deep breath from what you were forcing yourself to think about all over again, and to speak out loud. “My mom was there. Well, I thought it was her at first. Until I realized it was Yellow Eyes possessing her. And I saw Lucifer, too. That stupid little bastard. The both of them are in hell and they’re still messing with my head.”

“Yeah. That’s it—it was just a trick. None of what you saw was real.” Dean said in a serious tone of voice. He was trying to persuade you to the best of his ability to tell you that everything was going to be okay. It was normal for first time parents to get scared. But he felt no baby books or an article online would be able to calm down you from what all of you went through. “Our kid’s gonna come out healthy. Curse free and everything.”

"Like any of us ended up okay. Sam was fed demon blood as a baby and I was born with a split personality. And you had a baby with a monster. How much more does the universe need to tell us that this is a bad idea?” You found yourself bombarding the boys with questions you know they didn’t have answers to, only empty promises that things might turn out okay. You realized that all their warnings before weren’t them being too protective, they were onto something you ignored. “Everything that happens to me, from what I do, what I eat—it happens to the baby. Don’t you think something could go wrong because of the trials?”

“We don’t know that. The baby’s fine. You’re fine.” Dean argued with you, trying to knock some kind of sense into your head. “Besides, if there was even a chance something demonic going on Cas would have told you from the start.”

“You said it yourself that there was something wrong with him the first day he magically came back from purgatory. He hasn’t been the same for a while now. We all know that. Besides, who’s to say there’s some kind of leftovers hitching in my body? All that demon blood that changed me…you can’t get rid of that. You can’t lock me up and expect it all to evaporate.” You said. “For all we know Cas isn’t who we think he is. He could have lied to us about everything.”

“Okay, you know what? Stop. Just stop with all of this mumbo jumbo. You promised me, okay? You promised to leave a long June Clever life filled with play dates and graduations. We’re going to raise this kid properly—and together like a family. You’re not welching on that deal, not on my watch.” Dean said, deciding it was time for him to take control of this morbid conversation before you could send yourself even farther down this toxic frame of mind. "Nothing bad is gonna happen to this kid or you. Sammy and I are gonna make sure of it. And if you die, it’s gonna be because of something normal.”

“Like a heart attack?” You asked him, your tone of voice patronizing from his idealistic thinking.

“Exactly. You’re human and you’re gonna die like that. In a very, very long time from now.“ Dean said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. You rolled your eyes from how this argument turned out. You were too tired to keep it up, admitting defeat when he grabbed a still warm burger and handed it off to you. "Now eat. Enjoy it before the baby makes us all go vegan again.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you felt the smallest smile creep across the ends of your lips at Dean’s attempt at a joke to help ease the tension. Dean took his eyes off the road for a moment and to the rear view mirror, watching as you settled back down in your seat and took a bite of the food, looking somewhat more relaxed tonight. He put his attention back on the open road and grabbed a few fries that were still a little hot and popped them into mouth, as if he was trying to let the greasy and overly salty taste distract him from the burdening thoughts that were starting to burrow themselves into his mind.

For the first time since learning he was going to be a father and you were dead set on the idea you were going to be the one who closed the gates of hell, he felt confident. Like maybe there was a chance all of this was going to work out in the end. There was no lifelong consequences, no death required to save the day. A split second everything seemed okay. Instead all of it took for everything all of you worked so hard to try and believe in was for a mother-to-be seeing a Greek God having to die in order for their child to live a happy and normal life.

You were the one who killed off your demon side that was ripped out of your body with your own bare hands and personal drive to get something you always strived for, to become a human being like everyone else. And you were. But there was something that couldn’t be easily washed away. All that demon blood that you had been force fed by the monster himself, who wanted you created in a way that was a big middle finger to the Big Guy upstairs. You were scared the baby was going to turn out like you were, a half demon. Another monster unintentionally created. Like you, like his little brother. Dean accidentally made one himself with a stranger. You thought you had family curse that could only be stopped one way. If your bloodline ended with you.

Dean needed some kind of extra help to guide him through this situation, a best friend to call on for when things got tough. And he knew the one person that could help straighten this all out for the best. At least…he hoped. Because, at this point, there wasn’t much else Dean could do.

\+ + +

All of you made it back to the bunker in one piece after the long drive to wrap up this hunt. You didn’t mention where you were going when you headed in first and disappeared from sight, Sam headed off to the library to clean up the books while Dean retreated to his bedroom. He needed to be alone for a little while from what he was about to do. Dean slammed the door and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over to the desk chair, but not really caring to look to see where it ended up. He made his way over to his bed and sat on the side, readying himself for what he was about to do. He only did this when he absolutely desperate. Dean was beyond that point. He was completely lost with no guide back to the path.

Dean sat with his elbows on his legs, hunched over with a heavy head hanging low. Part of him felt stupid for what he was about to do, the other prepared himself for what he should say. Before he let any words slip out, he looked around the room, half expecting to see the angel already there. But he was still all alone. Dean inhaled a deep breath, deciding it was time to get started on asking for help from his best friend.

"Cas, you got your ears on?” Dean asked the empty silence. He waited a few seconds for some kind of response in the form of a greeting from that obnoxious gravelly voice or the flutter of angel wings. Instead he was greeted with nothing once more. Radio silence. “Listen, you know I am not the one for praying, ‘cause in my book it’s…it’s the same as begging. But this is about Y/N, so I need you to hear me.”

Dean felt that gnawing feeling of fear creep into him again, the same kind that he had when you told him that you were going to do the trials. When you were barely showing pregnant and confident you were going to win this. “We are going into this deal blind…and I don’t know what’s ahead or what it’s gonna bring for Y/N. Or the baby, for that matter.”

“Now, she’s been covering pretty good for a while now, but I know she’s starting to hurt. She’s scared for might happen to the baby.” Dean admitted to anyone who might be listening. He let out a shaky breath from everything that was hitting him all at once. And the reality that might be a possibility if nobody told them otherwise “This was always supposed to be on me. I was supposed to make sure they got the life they deserved.”

Dean forced himself not to think about the possible reality that you put in his head about another generation doomed for a fate of misery and pain. He wasn’t going to let that happen. “You were the one who told Y/N she was having this kid. You got her so excited about this baby and this great future all of us are gonna have. She’s dead set set on the idea this kid is gonna call you Uncle Cas when they get here. It’s adorable for how she’s been handling this.”

For a brief moment Dean felt himself smiling at the memories of you over the past few weeks, talking about what you might do for the baby’s nursery. If he wanted to find out the gender when it came around to the time of knowing. He thought about the conversations the both of you were going to have were going to be about how your life is going to change forever and your anxieties about trying to raise this kid late at night, wrapped in each other’s arms. He thought your fears were about trying not to emotionally screw this kid up, not if they were going to turn out the same way you did.

Dean rarely had the urge to cry, but in this moment, he was pretty damn close to it. He hated feeling so out of control and useless to the people he loved the most. "I want to make sure she stays positive throughout this entire thing. And the only way I can make that happen is if you do something for me. For all that we’ve been through, I’m asking you…You keep a lookout for the both of them, okay.” Dean told his absent friend the reason why he was reaching out to him after all this time. “I need to make sure what my mom used to tell me at least happens to my kid.”

Angels are watching over you, his mother used to tell him every night when she tucked him into bed. It was the last thing he remembered her saying to him. For all these years he thought they were fictional as the bible, but when he found out they were real, his feelings turned into hatred for them at how cold and heartless they were. Now he hoped the one that he called family would do that for him, make sure his mother’s words turned out not to be an empty promise to her grandchild. Dean looked around the bedroom to discover that he was still alone, talking to the empty silence. He let out a heavy sigh. “Where the hell are you, man?”

\+ + +

It started off with you taking the keys to the Impala without asking Dean for permission, only leaving a note that you needed to be by yourself for a little while. You turned your phone off and just drove off, letting the open road take you someplace to clear your mind. For a moment you were tempted to go back to Lawrence where it all started and see if you remembered anything from your childhood before you left. Maybe going back to your roots might help you stop feeling like you were doing everything wrong. Instead you ended up in the last place someone like you thought you’d never step into ever again; a church.

You always joked with yourself that if you ever tried to step onto such a holy ground like this you would most likely burst into flames from what you used to be…and what you feared that you still were. Most demons couldn’t enter a place of worship, except for a few who were powerful enough. When you stepped into the place you didn’t catch fire, there was no invisible wall blocking you from entering. You freely walked into the church of St. Christopher, who from what you could tell from the small laminated prayer card you picked up on the way in, was a patron saint of safety. Called upon in situations to offer protection against harm or evil lurking around those in need. You had to admit it was a little on the nose for your personal liking.

You shoved the prayer card into your back pocket of your jeans and made your way into the church that was built over a hundred years ago, back when people were God fearing Christians who went to church every Sunday and said grace before each meal. People put an awful lot of effort to show their love and faith to their powerful and faceless ruler. You didn’t grow up in a religious household, and you lost faith in Heaven and God a long time ago, but you had to admit humans were fascinating when it came to showing their worship.

The inside of the church was breathtaking; solid oak pews carved with craftsmanship, cathedral high ceilings that made you feel dizzy when you peered up. Stained glass windows depicting people in the bible, gold and marble trimmings that were the real deal. They didn’t cheap out to make the house of God look luxurious for when they sang their songs and read out of the bible, praying for forgiveness and a spot in Heaven. You stood in the middle of the empty aisle for a solid minute, admiring the beauty in the honor of someone who didn’t deserve it. 

You thought about leaving and forgetting about this all together, but your feet walked over to one of the empty pews and taking a seat down on the uncomfortable wood. You looked around to see there was not a single soul around trying to talk to the Big Guy tonight. It seemed you got to talk to Him all by yourself. You sat there for a moment, letting yourself ponder if this was a good idea. You felt like you didn’t belong in a place like this. You were a traitor pretending to be in need of some guidance from the father of the archangel that was the one who created you. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. You nervously rubbed your hands up and down on your thighs, deciding to take a crack at this whole praying thing.

“I bet You didn’t think I’d ever show my face in this kind of place, huh? Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.” You started off with a lighthearted joke to help ease the tension you were causing yourself. It was kind of funny, almost like a beginning of a punchline. A half demon walks into a church and asks God for forgiveness…only she spends the entire night not hearing a single word back. “You and I need to talk. I know You’re the silent type, so that means I get to do all the talking. Lucky me.”

You thought using a little humor might help ease your nerves, your lips forced themselves into a smile. You even heard a quiet laugh escape your mouth as it echoed through the church, making you realize you were truly alone. No outsider or eavesdroppers to stop you from letting you have this talk. The smile fell off your face, replaced with a nervous look in your eye. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t even know if you’re still around. If you are…listen up, old man.”

You inhaled a deep breath from what you were about to get yourself into, and all the things you had been bottling up for months were about to come clean. “I don’t know if You still keep tabs on us, but I went on a little vacation because I thought I needed some time away. Constantly being used can do that to a girl. And I bet You wanted some time away too…people are always bugging You, asking for help for their stupidest problems.” You tried once again to make light of this situation, but this time, you felt even more stupid.

“When I came back into my own head space…I discovered the people I knew went through some pretty bad stuff. They went up against some pretty nasty monsters from back in the day. Sammy had to deal with the aftermath of the cage without me while I got a free pass. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I even lost someone really important to me.” You went on, your heart feeling heavy at the memory you didn’t have. “I bet You know who Bobby Singer is. Drunk hunter with a dirty trucker hat. Probably is in heaven watching ‘Tori and Dean.’”

You felt your lips stretch into a real kind of smile at the memory of Bobby, the only father figure in your life for years. Saved your ass more times than you could count, gave you advice when you never asked for it. Gave you a shoulder to cry on when you needed it the most. Who died thinking you were as well. Your face began to sink downwards. “Point is, when I left things went to hell. Dean got sent to purgatory with Cas. Sam abandoned everything he knew for some girl. Even though we all found our way back together…things haven’t been the same. The boys are part of the reason why I’m here.”

You tapped your foot against the floor and looked around the church once again, feeling a bit nervous that someone was going to catch you. You looked over your shoulder, reassuring yourself that you were still alone. "I know I’m not Your child. And I’m not a good person for the things I did. But I was hoping You could look past all of that. Maybe the both of us could start off on a fresh page. What do You say?” You looked around the church again, your heart sinking when you noticed that you were still by yourself. Not sure what else you expected.

You shoved a hand inside your jean pocket to pull out something you hadn’t touched in a few years after you found out shortly after coming back from your hiatus. It was still buried in the bottom of your duffel bag with all of your clothes, safely tucked away and gone unnoticed. You dangled the leather rope in the air, letting the amulet swing back and forth. The necklace that Sam had given to Dean one Christmas when they were younger, the same one you fetched out of the trash after Dean threw it away when the trail to find God went cold. The only thing that could tell if He was in the building. You brought it here in hopes tonight you would get His attention that you were serious. You were at the end of your rope.

“I’m here because I just needed someone to listen to me. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I’m pregnant with Dean’s kid. Bet You didn’t see that one coming. Your little match made in hell turned out alright. By the way, I’m closing the gates of hell. Bet it sounds like I’ve got my crap together.” You said, giving God an update on what you’d been up to over the past few months. “I thought I did. Thought I was gonna kick these trials in the ass and have this kid. Do everything our parents never did, and live happily ever after Fooled myself for a while…even got Dean on board. And he’s a stubborn bastard.”

For the past several weeks since you started the first trial, maybe since you found out you were pregnant, you put on this facade that you were okay. You were confident that things were going to work out all right. Now you found yourself feeling like you had made a regretful choice that was going to ruin your life forever. You hung your head low and stared at your little bump that was starting to give you conflicting emotions about what you should feel. You were happy to have this new beginning when found out, now you wondered if you made a mistake.

Your mother had been dead for sixteen years, and in this moment, you’d do anything to hear her voice. To feel her arms wrap around your body into the hugs she would give you when you were feeling sad, and tell you in a calming voice that everything was going to be okay. You closed your eyes for a moment to pretend. Hell, you’d settle for anyone to tell you that you were doing the right thing. You sniffled down the urge to let yourself break down just yet. There was more things you still needed to tell Him.

“I don’t know why I’m telling You any of this. You take the award for Crappy Parent since the beginning of time. You left everyone when we needed You the most. I could sit here for hours and rip you apart for what you did to us. But I’m not. Because I have a favor to ask of you.” You said, deciding not to beat around the bush anymore. And let yourself finally feel the emotions you had been trying to fight off. "I’m here because I’m pregnant. I’m doing the trials to close the gates of hell. And I realized….I’m terrified for what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.”

People always said that God only gave you much as you could handle. Your parents were an infertile hunter and a Men of Letters legacy turned into a demon. You were born out of a demon deal that somehow turned you into a pawn to break free the Devil from the cage. You learned that you were born as a half demon that took control of your own body a few times before, then ripped out by an Angel of the Lord and the King of Hell. You lost count how many times you were tortured. You’d been to Hell and the cage. You died countless times…

But sitting here in this church, four months pregnant with your first child and talking to God—of all the people in this entire world—was where you felt the most vulnerable in your entire life.

You came here tonight for some kind of miracle. You heard so many people that it could happen if you pray hard enough. People told you He was real. The few angels that had met Him told you He was real. You might not be a child of God, but you were hopeful He’d take a few minutes to help you. "I know I’m in no position to ask you for guidance. But I don’t know where else to turn.”

You felt your head slump down and your body felt heavy from the sudden rush of fear that hit you like a ton of bricks. You were still trying to figure out this new motherly instinct that came after you found out you were pregnant. But you knew fear when you felt it, and this was it. The raw, gut wrenching emotion that haunted wherever you tried to go. Clouding your mind with nightmares that you couldn’t shake off, no matter how many times you told yourself that you were trying your hardest. Parents always did their best to make sure their child got the life they deserved, the kind they were never given to when they were growing up.

For the longest time you hated your mother for what she put you through, John was no exception to how he decided to raise his children. The more you learned about your father and Mary, the more you realized they weren’t great as people thought they were. But, much as you resented the people who raised you, you had to admit one thing. They did their damn hardest to provide you with a life they never had. All of them tried to keep you safe, whether that be sheltering you from all kinds of evil. Or training you to fight the monsters before they could hurt you. They tried. And you were trying, too.

You were trying to make sure your child was going to have the safer, better life you never did. You weren’t going to be controlling as your mother, and you’d never abandon your child the way John did to his boys. You gave them both so much slack, but here you were, realizing that it was harder than you thought. You felt like you were going to lose everything you worked so hard to get. The cycle that you were trying to break wasn’t going to end with you, but carry onto the next generation. You were going to fail as a parent before the child even got here.

“Can you please make sure my baby stays okay? ” Your head slowly rose itself up and stared at the ceiling above, as if this was a better position to talk to Him. You found yourself pleading to someone that you’ve never met before, who turned His back on you when you needed Him the most. You didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t have anyone else to turn to.

You sat in the pew with your hands in your lap and your hands around the necklace like a set of rosary beads, waiting for any kind of reaction from the amulet. Cas mentioned that it burned bright when God was around, but it still looked the same. You swallowed in nervousness. Your brain told you that maybe something was wrong. Perhaps there would be something else more dramatic to catch your attention. A slam of the door, a heavenly chorus to erupt. Anything. 

You found yourself waiting for something you should have known was never going to happen. You felt your helplessness manifest itself into the same hopelessness you felt when you were trying to figure out how to change your destiny when the apocalypse was nipping at your heels and the amulet turned into nothing more than a necklace. A wasted effort in trying to find someone who wanted to say hidden. But you weren’t giving up just yet. You were just getting started. No way were your words straight from the heart going to fall on deaf ears until you told him how you really felt. And what you were really wanted him to do.

“All I’m asking is for you to look out for my kid, okay? That’s it. I’m not asking you to fix the world or be a parent to your dead sons. I just want some help.” Your voice came off cold and mean, showing Him that you weren’t going to play into the silent treatment. “I did so much for you—even if You don’t think so. I stood up to Your sons. I saved the world. That’s got to count for something. All I need is for you to point me in the right direction. Can’t you just give me a sign that I’m doing the right thing?!”

“’Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and it will be open to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds. And to him who knocks will be opened.’”

You felt yourself nearly jumping out of your skin from the voice that you weren’t expecting to hear, caught up with the idea that you were still all alone. You slowly turned around in your seat to face the stranger, greeting them with tear stained cheeks and red eyes from crying. You didn’t realized you had been doing until you had company. It came as no surprise when you saw a priest standing behind you with a warm smile, seeming to notice you were in need of some kind of spiritual guidance. You quickly wiped your face and pretended what you had been doing just a few seconds before never happened.

“The conversation tends to be very one sided with Him, I’m afraid. God’s not much of a talker.” The priest said, smiling a little wider at his joke that was badly timed in your opinion. You didn’t find him the least bit funny, his humor only made your face scrunch up in more anger. “I think you need someone who can talk back.”

“No thanks. I was just about to leave.” You said. “I realized I’m not exactly welcome here.”

“And why is that?” The priest asked you. He gave you a confused look as to where you had gotten such an idea from. Everyone was welcome in the Lord’s house, you were half expecting him. That’s what the bible teaches. Only if you’re straight, white and male. You rolled your eyes when you heard the exact speech come right out of his mouth. “God and His son teaches us to love and accept everyone. No matter what.”

“It’s great to hear you guys are progressive with the times and everything, but I’m not exactly of your kind.” You said. “I’m not a child of God. I’m a sinner who is beyond His help. I didn’t realize that until now.”

"I highly doubt such a thing. We’re all born sinners, yes. But it’s asking forgiveness and putting your trust in God. That’s the first step into finding what you seek. You must let him into your heart and guide you to salvation.” The priest said. You furrowed your brow from his little speech, which was probably plucked out from the bible. “I think you came here tonight to ask Him for that.”

“I came here tonight out of a moment of weakness.” You told him, not really in the mood to hear any kind of selling point to make you join his church. For a moment you almost considered about telling him the truth about how you came to be and the strange twists and turns the bible never taught him. You looked up to the ceiling and pointed a finger above. “I hate to break it to you, Father, but you’re wasting your breath. He ignores all our prayers. You’re off better with the rest of us who are just trying to survive on our own.”

“You say you came here out of a moment of weakness. But if you have so little faith in God, then why are you here asking for His help?” The priest’s question took you off guard from how blunt he was being, asking for the truth without even trying to engage you in a formal conversation. It seemed he wanted to know why. “Something in your heart lead you here. You can’t deny that.”

“I have a lot on my mind right now. I had premarital sex and I’m having a baby out of wedlock.” You pointed to your stomach, showing off the baby bump that had been making you emotional in the first place. You expected him to look revolted from one of the biggest sins someone could do, but he took you by surprise when he smiled, as if you were telling him a joke. “What? You’re not going to tell me I’m going to hell?”

“Why would I say such a terrible thing like that? A baby is not a sin, no matter how they are conceived. They are a miracle given by God himself. But I don’t think that is what’s really bothering you. You seem like you’re in need of a listening ear.” He said. “Now, tell me, why are you really here?”

“You really want to hear my problems?” You asked him. The old man nodded his head. While you were tempted to tell him the truth about everything from the very beginning, as he would most likely believe every word, there was something…kind about him that you really didn’t want to ruin. A sort of blandness that would be destroyed if he really knew the truth. Some things were better left unsaid. “Life has handed me a set of trials, you could say. For a while I thought they were my responsibility. I wanted to do it…until I realized how hard it was going to be. And don’t hit me with the whole ‘God only gives you what He thinks you can handle’ crap. It’s crap.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. Do you mind?” The priest gestured a hand down to the pew, asking to sit. You slid over a bit, letting him take a seat next to you. “I was going to say that in true moments of weakness we come here. Seek out the guidance of Him. Which is what you did tonight. You say that you thought these trials were your responsibility. Why is that?”

"Kind of goes back to the whole 'not being a child of God’ thing. I did a lot of bad things. Things that I’m not proud of. I thought if I did these trials I’d somehow ‘cleanse’ myself from the demons inside of me.” You admitted to him. “Now I think I made a mistake, putting myself into a fight like that without knowing fully what I’m up against.”

“Have you ever thought God wanted you to be the one who did these so called trials? He has a plan for all of us.” The priest said. He had you in the beginning, but when you heard him hit you with the cheesy speech, you had to look away and roll your eyes in annoyance. “Even for those who don’t believe they are His children. Perhaps this is His way of guiding you on the path to redemption. Have you ever considered that? He might be a silent God, but he listens. And He watches out for those who want to repent for their sins.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you laughed off his cliched way of thinking from the scripture he must have read over and over again for decades, learning every verse and passage to quote in the time of need to people like you. You were about to shrug off his words as nothing more than empty promises people wrote back thousands of years ago, having no clue of what they were really talking about. That was, until the inside of your palm started to feel rather…warm. You furrowed your brow in confusion, opening your hand slightly to see what was going on.

In the sixteen years you were in the presence of the amulet never once did you ever see it shift in any kind of way. Not even when Cas used it to track down God, only to find bupkus. Not until this very moment. It wasn’t burning hot like the angel had said, but you felt a heat that warmed your cold hands. Every sense in your body jump up at what you felt happening. He was around. He had to be. If there was anything you knew God did best, it was bringing people together with a reason why.

Kevin only found out how to close the gates of hell after being kidnapped by Crowley after Sam quit hunting and Dean was sent to purgatory. The reason why Sam didn’t bother to do anything was because you were dead. A year passed, Dean made friends with a vampire that broke him free…reunited back with Sam, who went looking for Kevin. Only they discovered you were alive and reunited all of you together. Things lead to you discovering about Dean having a baby, and in return, you accidentally made one yourself. The constant fighting and seeing the boys break apart from how they used to made you want to fix them and make a proper family again.

All of the hunts you took since coming back, the people you met, the fighting…all of this pushed you to your breaking point. Yes. But for a good reason. He was giving you a chance to get rid of the monsters His son made to spite Him. This was your way of rebelling against your creator. The same way he did to his Father. It all made sense. He did hear you.

"People have lost their way and wonder why they end up in hell. It’s because they don’t let God into their hearts. We all can find inner peace if you let Jesus Christ and his Father. It’s the first step you must do if you want to become what you seek.” The priest went on, telling you everything you didn’t know you needed to hear until now. "This is God’s plan. He guided you here tonight so we could meet. It’s all a sign. Let Him into your heart, Y/N. Let Him guide you to salvation.”

“Yeah…” You felt your lips stretching into a smile from what you were hearing. The warmth the amulet was slowly starting to cool down, but it was still enough to keep your faith. It made sense all of it did. You looked over at the priest to give him a smile at his kind words, knowing they meant more to you than he would ever realize. “You’re right, Father. I guess in a way this is Him giving me a chance to do something right. I didn’t see it until now. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my child.” The priest said, giving you a warm smile from how you turned yourself to see the right direction. “Always know our doors are open for you and your family. And know, you’re never going to be alone when you face these trials. He’s always with you.”

You thanked the priest once more from his kind words that went farther than he would ever know. The both of you stood back up, letting you make your way the exit, knowing your time here was done. You felt a smile lingering on your lips and your skin still tingling from what you witnessed. A miracle, some might say. You didn’t need to be here anymore, because you found what you were looking for.

You made your way the doors and stopped for a moment to tuck away the necklace for safekeeping and searched around for the keys to the Impala. You found them, along with the prayer card. You examined the biblical painting of St. Christopher carrying Baby Jesus on his shoulder. Reminding you that the priest was right. The both of you weren’t alone. You were always going to have someone look out for your protection.

The priest, in which he called himself Father Marv, watched as you made your way safely out of the church and back to wherever you crawled out from. Your head was still buzzing with the magnificent words from the holy bible, scripture often mistaken as the true word of God. Farther Marv scoffed at the insult, pulling off the clergy collar from his neck and threw it to the ground. People don’t know the true word spoken by Him. Father Marv knew. After all, he was the one who personally wrote down everything God spoke, back when the world was the beauty of Eden. A garden of peacefulness and serenity. He knew about the trials you were talking about.

It was the reason why he was back among the humans. He never liked sticking his head out into the real world, preferring the comfort of books. Novels, nonfiction, science. Math. Anything humans published since the dawn of time. It was only when a prophet started reading his handiwork that got him curious to step out doors, and find out what happened to the world. To say he was disappointed in his brothers and sisters was an understatement. God would have been so disappointed. So much corruption, so many lost and wandering souls. And one who lost their way, and got a little too big for their britches.

The half demon spawn his archangel brother was trying to close the gates of hell. But she wasn’t that no more. You can take the demon out of the girl, but you can’t take the wicked touch Lucifer put in her out. As if things weren’t bad enough, she was carrying an offspring. Evil breeds evil.

These were Godless times. Someone needed to put things right. And who better than the angel who wrote everything God spoke? He was going to make sure this world into what He always wanted.


End file.
